The heart still beats.
I can feel the pulse,
Blood pounding through insomnia induced migraine.
So why does it feel like it has stopped
I can feel my stomach,
Churning as it tries to digest this poor food I ate.
So why does it feel like its has sunk
Below the floor?
The room is warm.
I checked the temperature twice,
and bumped it once for good measure.
So why do these farmer's tanned arms still shiver,
With unnatural chill?
Mind knows the truth,
And the heart knows it too,
It still feels what it cannot see.
So why doubt, and continue searching for
What is this feeling I cannot place?
What is this feeling I cannot shake?
And why do I feel like all of these questions,
They are already far too late?