Thursday, December 07, 2006

Calling Mimie

I can't sleep again. 0300 hrs. I got out of banality being in bed, checked my emails.

In my head, I still ruminate about how close that woman to having a flatline on the table this morning. And how forever it felt for her to speed up to my content. That was my adrenaline fix. I shouldn't play with people's heart, literally.

You have mails.
My past stared at me.
My heart beats so fast it almost fibrillated into weak pathetic flickers
My eyes welled, I didn't dare blink
My feeling tranced.
Time stood still.

It's probably not meant for me to read.
It's probably not meant for now
It's probably not him

But nobody else ever knows Mimie
Be still my still.

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