Sometimes I find...
Me and the Devil coincide.
Arrhythmia expanded so far beyond.
Atriums and Ventricles fail to correspond.
Is my skin turning purple?
Did my rods and cones fail?
Medication derived delirium occurring
Aboard the finest vessels I set sail.
Hospitalized melancholy is a battle I'll eventually lose.
Infinite episodes of hysteria I'll accidentally identify then confuse.
The television screen becomes a scattered, black and white infinite madness.
The nurses seem to peddle plastic bags full of liquid medicated gladness.
The faces of visitors distort, flicker, meander, and transpose.
Allusions of being homeward bound always being seemingly composed.
My liver burns with a violent pain in consistent radiated bounds.
Being strapped to a bed like a hostage,
escaping my conscience compounds.
At lesser times, greater men have failed, and some have fallen down.
My heart stutters, skips, pauses briefly, then somehow silently makes a sound.
This toxic sludge transverses my veins at a very slow crawl.
Death becomes pleasantly, yet disdainfully invited.
As my kidneys seem to fail, revive, fail, then they just give up over all.
My hippocampus ceases to convert memory: short term into long.
The echoes in my ears are of my favorite repeated song.
Life seems over, forgotten, diluted, and helplessly fading black.
I'm never emitting out the conscious command to give up, give in, and step back.
Miraculous, divine, or maybe happenstance.
Life comes in at times, out at others, it's just a matter of chance.
Light never leaves my open eyes, nor does my automated breath.
Life can come back in full circle sometimes, even when tethered to death.
Pack my bag, put on pants, comb my hair, and tie my shoes.
A joyful return to the norm collides, and my sanity resumes.
Three months in intensive care is expensive, and radically consumed.
There may never be hope for the wicked, but there's always some hope for the doomed.