How many warnings taken as possible lies

shall we dare, if
first time, we were right?

Feel it? You know?

Not dying when, you know,

you could have, you know what dying is,
and
this
feeling,
that's life. Wanna risk it? What if we agree,

whatever we imagine is possible,
together, nothing can defeat us. In the most

straight-forward intuitive way you comprehend:
whatever we imagine is possible,
together, nothing can defeat us.

Virtually impossible to let such an idea free,
safely.

I'm good, three score and ten plus a few extended
journeys through
history and myth at the speed of thought

brings us here, just short of where we'd have met
in the final analysis
which
takes ever and a day

during which passings of times we breathe,
peacefully.
we troublers of our own house,
heirs of the wind and all its
princely powers,
subject

to right use, our
bhering
clear answers, affirming ever
oboroborobo oboe riffs on electric bass\
backed by Feynman pounding Djembe
drums through NAND
gates tittling jots of
rythmic swirls
in
backward 720s, time
and again,
as Sisyphus
ever rolls, happishly,
random
rocks,
laughing at jour yoke of yesteryears job titles.

Our final task, in every mortal moment,
breathe peace, and pass on.

Or that's my plan. Y'think it'll fly?

She called him, close to midnight,
his hello thawed her damp heart.
She stood silently, gripping it tight,
her knuckles, close to white.
She stood waiting some more,
unwilling to put the phone down, cut the call.
She heard a rattling breath followed by an "are you there?"
Tears fell fast as she said "forever and beyond"
She willed to give him,
a second chance.

This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.

It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.

The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.

The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.

Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.

Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.

Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.

Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.

Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.

Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.

You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.

Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.

Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.

Supressed feelings, this is unimaginable pressure.
Roaming around with happiness, with the greatest treause,
Though I'm showing it slightly,
that never lets me get as loose.

Hiding it and hiding it, unintentionally and uncontrollably,
Creates the biggest void, and maybe leaves you wih some ruins of what you used to be.
It's hard living in a world where I'm not like I want to be...

I need some screws, a little help, to put myself back together,
And I have to be careful, to not make myself sadder.

I know, I know, somewhere under These layers I won't see a void,
But I'm going to be complete as I used To be.