The Arrangement

The Arrangement


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




Clear fog

Sightless eyes



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


Yes, Servant


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