Thousands of strange faces, only one charmer, ingrained pacemaker gone wrong, mechanical artifice that can’t love. Isn’t bradycardia. It’s a gridlock. Lifeline’s dead. This love elevated my cholesterol while I waited for your call, it chose not to warn me I could fall in love, who’s to blame? Pacemaker gone wrong, charmer, words empty, the stretch of a coronary stent? You did it, didn’t. It's just my guilt. No one is at fault. It’s the way our cells are built, multiplicity, plurality, properly eat, don’t strangulate the artery. Forget the charmer! Do what's right. But the heart doesn’t forget, does what it does even when told: Don't let him encrust that pacemaker, he'll never be what love means to you. It will be, so I thought. Pacemaker can't love but it'll regulate my hope, I say as I fall into cardiac arrest. No more falling in love, I said but it was too late. F L A T 💔 L I N E Thousands of faces, but one charmer who wanted to keep this mortal love to himself until either I was gone or I had learned how to truly love. As only truth can derail a charm so strong. As only an honest care toward ourselves can derail such a mad enabler who only has a want: to be utterly loved. How dare he if love fair he doesn't care to be!
The medical terms can be visualized here thanks to heart.org