Up — shooting through a plane of anxiety,
Swirling neurons spasm and thrash and trash my body.
Down, up, up, down, ascending severity
I pray to all deities: Allah, Krishna, God, please.
In between known and unknown, life and death,
Relying on periodic updates, in-flight service,
The quickening of…
Obnoxious noises scratch and claw at the pavement,
Searching for the last morsel of nutrients.
Tweets bounce off the walls like… well, like misguided birds.
A cacophony of sound that’s not all too pleasant on the ears or the palette.
It swirls and eddies like wistful mist,
Imagine if your heart was trapped behind a wall
Made up of phrases, big words and small.
Things that were said, or were thought but not spoken.
Things that left you scared, shattered, and broken.
Whispers from your parents, unsure of their children
Complaints from your teachers, you’re a tiresome…
After these nine-plus months, we all want some semblance of this thing called control, right? The ability to feel like the next day will be okay, and the day after that and so on.
I’m here to tell you it’s folly. A false wish that will never be fulfilled. Sorry.