my sickness beats in me, like a

second heart. At times pumping its blood

of derangement and discontent through my veins

like bursts of snow storms that coat my heart

in winter

and at times you can only hear it when

alone in bed

and the silence around you reminds you of

its humming

while it pulses voices through your head

and sometimes this heart explodes and

grows

and poisons my organs sends depression

through my bones

but the heart within me, the one that

sits in the centre of my chest

is filled with faith, God, peace and rest

and it will always beat harder

and faster and with more love and blood

then any sickness

or any heart

that doesn’t beat just for me