Beating Heart

I hate the feeling of my heart

Pounding ferociously against my chest

I don't notice most of the time

Only when I am still and listening

It vibrates my very being

Like thunder ripping through me

It's maddening

That in those pulsing moments

I begin to wonder

"Is this even real?"

My heart drums on with strength

So there must be a reason

That it keeps playing

Or is it  merely a distraction

To keep me from seeing through this illusion

That many call Life?

I do not know

I do not have any answers

To the ever growing questions