Dismay

My demon, Gravity, no longer binds me.

He sulks and sorrows my newfound joy

Pressuring others to assist my demise.

Dismay, this foe, construes a sound ploy.

 

I love her more than all other people,

But lately it’s harder to talk without squabbles.

A new feeling shivers my body—

Regardless of the spat’s outcome—

I am… concerned.

 

I dislike it more than other feelings,

But it keeps coming back without squabbles.

The shivers in my body and temperature shifts—

My head feverous and limbs hypothermic—

I am concerned.

 

I think about it more than other thoughts,

But no common factors are found—besides squabbles.

Maybe my leg shiver is a part of this—

Maybe it’s been with me my whole life—

I am… worried.

 

I share fear synonyms more than other words,

But only a few understand sharing their own squabbles.

They struggle with shivers still to this day—

Without any hope of healing—

I am worried.

 

It occurs more often than other actions,

But still the strongest after squabbles.

I go berserk and begin to shiver while driving—

I break. I brake. I pull over. I fall apart—

I am… dismayed.

 

I hate this more than most other habits,

But I can’t slow its seizing especially in squabbles.

My love comforts me through a shiver—

After triggering the shiver with her tears—

I am dismayed.

 

In the spirit realm, Gravity smiles wide.

His punishers try to ignore his joy.

Dismay began abusing his past victim.

I, this victim, have fallen for this ploy.

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