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Through my veins

A constant thrum,

So I'm told.

Sometimes I forget

That the little pathways

The highways and the exits

Side streets and mountain paths

Run from my heart

to my head

to my fingertips.

Everything is so natural,

So normal,

That I don't notice

The thick life keeper

As it flows.

I just breathe.

Other times

I lie awake.

Too much, too much;

Every beat brings me closer

To exploding.

The blue and red lines,

Traceable under my skin,

Are all footpaths

When what I need

Is a highway.

Overflowing, but nothing

where it needs to be.



There are the times,

Seconds and decades all at once

When I am an

Deserted freeway,

Tumbleweed scrapping about

In place of the vital crimson I need.


Numbness even worse than the explosion.

Cold despite the heat surrounding me

Sticking my hand in the flame

Just to feel something, even the pain.

But nothing.

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