By D. R. DiFrancesco
Being pulled from side-to-side,
A menagerie of disjointed thought.
Attempts at composure,
An act of self-deprecation,
Leading me further into disarray.
What do I do?
Emotions have no focus,
Every path a winding dead end.
Holding me back,
Racked between chaos and cognition,
Drowning in confusion.
I urge myself to take a breath,
Empty my tortured mind,
If only for a night.
Hoping for thoughts to regain composure,
I know this too shall pass,
It always does.
In the meantime,
Wallowing in this mire, that is my mind,
I will wait.