Beneath the bruised pulse

My heart races, stumbles, and speeds,
A frantic rhythm I can’t unheed.
Chest tightens, aches in silent pleas—
Love left its mark, and won’t let me breathe.

Every beat like a ghostly grip,
A squeezing hand I can’t outstrip.
Lungs grasp at air but come up short,
Lost in the rhythm of love’s retort.

I sit alone with echoes deep,
Wounds unwelcome, secrets I keep.
Though time will mend, for now it reigns—
A heartbeat heavy with love’s remains.