Focus

The ground slips beneath me,
And I am too tired to make a stand.
All I can control
Are inhales, trying to make sense
And exhales, of the world around me.
An ache born deep in my bones
Settles over my cold skin.
Heart beats thrum,
Adrenaline rushes shiver,
Flowing up and down my spine.
My life, my senses, my being,
Are all focused on only two things now:
My laboured breaths
And your silent heartbeat.

A note:
I understand how impolite and careless I seem to anyone who cares, when I don’t post anything for long periods of time, and for that, I am sorry. I am sure, though, that everyone knows how Life has a way of seeping through your plans and demanding your energy.

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