Teeth grit like vice grips on steel.
The metallic hiss rings unforgivingly long.
I raise my hands to the air
Empty handed I surrender.
Empty handed I look for answers.
Yet none rings true for this.
Like a swinging pendulum
I’m hot and then cold
Impatience – an unwelcome friend yet makes itself all too known.
Trying to pacify myself is like
Trying to run backwards up a hill.
Continuously falling downwards.
Makes for a bitter
I’m self pity.
Woe be to me for I have seen more tragedy,
In my little mind’s eye than you’ve seen wrongs over rights.
More sleepless nights,
As the hag rides,
Seem like nursery rhymes
Compared the stories I rewind at bedtime.