Deep inside the crevices of my heart
Are my feelings; emotions born to be suppressed
And hidden and gradually be oblivious
Like a candle when the wax melts down.
I am a plant whose buds wither
Before they burgeon to become a flower
Because autumns in my world are perennial.
The mazes of dangling IVs and pipes
Are strangling me to death
Palpitations in my heart say I'm alive
The brain says I'm stone-dead
I can feel but dont know what
I can love and hate, laugh or cry
My soul screams with jealousy but all is muted
And is heard at eternity.
In coma I'm living but dead
And that is what is to be enjoyed about it.
