My hummingbird heart beats fast like a drum as I sit and wait for my next fix to come.. It beats so fast I can see it beating out of my chest.. As time gets closer things start to happen and my vision starts to fade.. I blink hard and try to focus but nothing changes.. My muscles start to feel weak and my legs begin to shake.. Starting as small spasms building up to an eruption resulting in my legs giving away.. I fall to the floor, that’s when tears start to build.. Fear rushes over me and the smell of death feels the air.. My hummingbird heart goes from a drum to a slow pitter patter.. My breaths become shallow while my lungs become sticky like glue.. As I lay there on the floor taking my last breaths something sweet fills the air.. I can taste it’s partials on my tip tongue which had just enough nectar my lungs became undone.. My breath started back as the sweetness grew in the air.. Allowing more nectar to fill my veins, regaining normalcy my legs grew strength.. I rush to my feet to find the sweet scent when I notice you standing in front of me.. My hummingbird heart back to beating like a drum.. Needing you to survive, keeping my hummingbird heart alive, makes me realize I wish I’d had died..

@darknight

#hummingbirdheart #death #life

He looks my way

Eyes peircing

A slight smile on his face

I look away

My heart beating faster than

A hummingbird's

I think i could fly away

Some time my mind still lingers upon those days

from the past.

Half a day to gather fire woods,

just so we could have enough fuel to warm up a quarter of the house for half an hour.

The colder the weather,

the snugglier our hearts.

Some time I found myself easily loosing track of the time in doing small stuff

Like watching a cat purring inside your arms

or the hands molding Papier-mâché masks

I remember that day when I spent half a day in sharpening a pencil,

just to write a short note to tuck inside the book I borrowed from you

Or that one month I walked 10 miles each morning

just to bring you the freshly made bread from the oven.

Or that Autumn,

I learned how to count stars in the milky galaxy,

trying to find my way back to your heart.

When I was twenty, whatever, it doesn't matter how old I was - I woke up with a crooked smile. I pressed my fingers to my lips in bed, having rolled over to check my alarm clock. I thought, oh my god. I don't have a smile.

When I was officially out of bed, I looked in the mirror. And I saw that the left hand side of my lip drooped downwards. I pressed my fingers against my lip again and again - I must surely be exaggerating. But it was there. I was deformed.

When I went to my psychiatrist that day for a routine appointment, he told me I was only speaking out of one side of my mouth. It's a virus that causes that, he said. Here. Take some pills. Shocking, but I needed to have my whole mouth functioning.

When I went to a doctor to see what was wrong, a family doctor, he told me some things I already knew. I recited WebMD from memory. Wow, the doctor said. Did you know you're really intelligent?

When I started taking the steriods the family doctor prescribed me, I went to a concert in the park downtown, with my father. I thought my life was over. My face was deformed. My dad said, you're doing something with your mouth. No, I wasn't. I was just smiling. But half of it drooped to one side. Oh, my god, I thought. WebMD said I have one year to recover from this. Will I ever recover?

When Covid-19 hit, and this is two years later, I still hadn't recovered my full smile. Sure, it exists. But it's lopsided.

When I wear a mask, it covers my smile. For this I am grateful.

When I wear a mask, I think strangers might be looking at me for more than my face.

I sit in the dark alone.

And I let weakness show

When I pick up a knife

And stare at it, crying.

Nobody can see.

I want it that way.

I don't want pity.

So it's a dirty secret

That I hold so much in my mind.

I play off as ditzy and stupid to them

Only smart when it really counts.

But I'm crazy.

I laugh

Empty laughter

And nobody can tell.

Depression had me caged

Then I escaped just to find out that life still had me chained

Exhausted from the pain

Afraid that I can’t obtain the change that I crave I may lay my self in the grave never claim to be brave they say that I’m insane

Sit in silence while crying out for help

Trying to understand the hand that I was dealt

Ask god for forgiveness If he answered I must have missed the sign I sigh as I fall asleep knowing reality awaits me when I wake

We claim to live and learn but the village burns from mistakes we are ashamed to admit that we made

We say life is metaphoric yet we run from metamorphosis every word of rhetoric makes us more metamorphic

We try to stand out in a world full of sheep the only escape is a dream as we sleep so it seems we are all the same

It ’s not conscious what connects us its emotional esteem so by nature we are reckless

I hate that I feel the need to understand the grand plan of the universe

Search for wisdom that I know will hurt

Know I should enjoy the moments that make life worth all the struggle

But that’s where I struggle

A man of the masses

so average

why do I matter?

what happens after?

I want to change the world

Yet I can’t change my own

Some days I can barley change my clothes

Some days I hope life is close to coming to a close