They call
the sound
heartbeat.
I think
I know
just why:
Battered
by time,
by age,
choices,
both bad
and worse.
It fights,
clenches
a fist
against
my ribs,
railing
against
the walls
of me,
so worn,
so tired
from all
of this.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
But you will persevere. Because you have to. You just do.