I am confused in my own emotional state. Feeling things deeply is a gift that I hate. Swinging from this or that going round and round spinng me flat. Trapped in a vice of a stressful reality causing the squeeze of a mountain of anxiety.
You'd never know for looking at my dead pan face. I am kicking so hard in a place, they can't trace. Hidden from view but leaking out in words. Black onto white some times as a coward.
Powerful Eddie's of disperate emotions all playing out as though in internal oceans. Storming together in my tiny teap cup. With me the eye in the middle enveloped.
Not really sure how to choose which ones to feel and those to loose. All tangled together into a mass of angst I'd not want to give it any thanks. Just holding on as it pulls and pushes not willing to do what the urges wishes
I choose to do nothing.
©wrennie
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