Darting eyes look to and fro
Turned Goth from nights not slept
Fifty milligrams of melatonin
See you in the afternoon or late morning
Sleep has become akin to waiting
Fuel up on Zs and speed to resume racing
Finish line is anywhere at any given time
Vehicle is driven solely by the drips of time
Minding mine, one thought leading to the next
For some reason they connect but appear a random mess
I hit Tim when he tried to climb on the jungle gym
This is mere unrevised writing on a whim
in the eye of the Poke’ Ball…
I’m by myself
I stand like a comedian
with blows to the back
Sit on my arm till it goes
and the hand’s owner I don’t know
So idle, these times…
The antics of boredom…
Then I’m told to go and I go
Prepared for combat
I love it
I was going mad
But no opponent
my master is
Making that awkward
return from hell time.
When mind melts to mayhem
marked by absolute seclusion.
Nothing to say like deaf parrots.
at the same slice of the world –
someone else’s world.
A blast in the birdcage.
one copes quietly in
coping gets done in a shadowy solitude.