Structure to Disctract From the Fact That I'm Dying

It sucks that inspiration only hits me at the end of my emotional rope...

Once,
I could sleep,
secure in the knowledge
that you loved me.

Now
it's what keeps
me awake, eyes open,
breathing too fast,

dreams
far away,
only the nightmares real
when I'm alone.

This
was a choice,
I keep telling myself--
simple, not easy,

made
in the throws
of reason, of logic,
not emotions,

but
it's so hard
to keep hold of reasons,
my sanity

in
the face of
how much I love you still,
how much it hurts.

I
seek comfort
in something of structure--
in a rhythm,

when
usually
there's only my heartbeat
to set a pace.

I
count seconds,
and footsteps, keeping track
of the numbers,

to
distract me
from how empty I feel
in the face of

you
being gone,
somewhere else, not with me,
a hollow place

where,
once, you were...

but I'm
breaking free,
look at that,
almost there,
a few more words,
I'll be
back in my head,
back on my feet,
finding my kilter,
no longer skewed.
If I
can only
keep
from
rhyming or
any predictable pattern
I have this illusion
I can prove I'm
not broken
anymore...