Mental Cacophony
No beginning; no ending
Spiraling in ever smaller rounds
Only to be thrown to the edge
Barely in touch with the ground
Pain of passing unsighted
Into the darkest of night
Suddenly soaring into a light too bright
Thoughts cascading nonsense
With emotional drowning
Coiled taunt for another unending
Sheila
Love,
Sage
fee
Who me? I am as pure as the wind-driven snow and . . . Oh, okay . . . I still carry around a few of those thoughts. The murderous ones are easy to get rid of, you just have to kill it off in your mind and it will never bother you again. Murder most foul is the only way to go. Either that or stay wasted twenty-four-seven . . .
Newfie Hugs, Rose