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.