That Some Day. Poem by Kim Dang

Vitiated, by Grim's clout.
From the inside out.
I'm bruising.

From broken needlesticks capped wrongly,
I'm using
Again. The self pitying adrenalin.
The arrhythmias begging for another beginning.

Like some weather phenomenon has ripped
through me.
Like I'm buried ten feet, four more feet deep.
I'm cringing to feel it more cruelly.

Imagined scenarios closes each show with black curtains,
drooping in front of the audience in slow motion
Caskets lined up after autopsies, open.
Capturing loss's costs to sample an inflexible future occurrence.

Preparation through replay? I'll question.
Ready for that Someday. followed by asterisks.
Or inventive of another reason for crying?
Creating aggrievances as scapegoats for escape through hiding.
And I'll question whether I'm truly optimistic.
or just astonishingly successful at trying.