The rhythm of my temple keeps pace with the ground
Rough and dimpled the thudding of my feet
Fingers twitching, heart escaping thru skin
Anxiety has risen to spread its confusion
And my mind is floating on a breeze
A balloon tied by a string
Fastened tightly to the wooden fence
Knotted thrice; so tight that grooves were left on the fingertips
And here I float, bobbing in the breeze
Drifting in the air and floating with no purpose
I get nowhere
Do nothing, have no purpose
But to float, tied and mounted for whom?
The balloon, my mind, empty with exhaled thoughts
Pointless ideas batter the inside with silent protests
I can still hear the rhythm of my temple
Bang, bang, pound, thump
The sides of my head are percussion
My hands vibrate like cymbals
Mouth, dry like sand
Every morning, every day, every month
Every fucking moment!
More thumps and air and emptiness, and quiet and noise and solitude and crowds!
It’s just all too big! Just too big!
Too much and too many
Crowding around me in my empty room
I know what lies doors tell
Of promises of change if I venture out
Dare I venture out?
Why even step out
Anxiety surrounds like a spiked cowl
Confining. Mutilating. Comforting.
We know each other by name