A cocktail of epinephrine and saccharine
bliss would not resuscitate a solid flatline.
Close your eyes so that you can miss my
pulse which fades, slowly running out of time.
I search for a terminated flicker- bright red
and not seen but hollowed out within.
Be still the beats which lift souls to soar
for they know not where I have been.
The electric sparks depart. I will miss my
pulse when heart and flatline meet.
Devoid of all and none- only a fiery
Molotov cocktail lives to steady choke each beat.
by Felicia Lujan_6.29.2012Explore posts in the same categories: Allusion, Fire Symbol, Pain, Poetry, Poets, Writers, Writing