Warmth (C) 7-9-2012 Poem by Zahir Kijani

I know it's winter, I get that but it's not my external cell
But the internal configuration within me that's shivering
I know this feeling far too well,
It comes and goes without warning
Never announcing its presence it just barges in like an unwanted in-law
I try to grant myself warmth by washin it all away but it isn't hygiene
I swallow pints of Buckley's combating it's less than appetizing taste
But it isn't a cold, it isn't the flu
So why do I feel so sick?
My heart pounds rapidly punchin my lungs flat and tearing through my rib cage
Only to open up my flesh, spring out, and jump in a pot of boilin water
…for warmth
As if I should dump ice in the bath tub and fill it with icy cold water and bathe in it
For warmth
I feel as though it'd be easier to shovel every piece of snow into one pile
And dive in it for warmth
But that doesn't logically make sense because I'd only be colder
But since when does logic matter in any equation designed as an obstacle in my life
For my mind can't even completely comprehend the fact that I am living
Why me? Why do I differ from my twin? Was I stronger? Was I faster?
Or was I just simply experiencing the same cold feeling that I feel now and,
Was searching for warmth
Why can't I jump into the arms of my mother and feel that warmth
Just as that, that I felt from hearing the voice of my grandmother
Why do my eyes sprinkle water on my face and onto my pillow
Knowing that I am already cold, it's counterproductive, I only shudder more
Why every time I think or speak about her, anyone of them do I tremble?
I ask myself am I goin through depression and myself tells me that it's a phase
A phase that is normal for me when I am uninspired and am searchin for a purpose
A self implicated defense mechanism geared toward presenting motivation to press forth
But why does it come with visions of death?
Not only visions but the longing for death, the deep yearning for Death's grip on my heart
Squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until the breath God blew into Adam is extracted from me
That's where I find solace, that's where I find joy and happiness knowing that I will not die anymore
That every tear has left my eye and I will no longer be brought to an outcry of pain from mourning
The former things that have now past away
But it's never that easy, I can't even die because someone'll be disappointed and I think
I think that I still have some reason that I was born on this side of time as opposed to the next
So I'll keep living in hopes to find out and hopefully I do before it's all over.
But then again I'll no longer search for warmth to do away with this cold.