There is a manner to which my brain waves at me…with snares, rockets and flare guns.
Motions ebb and flow like someone who has seen a ghost.
Yet, I cannot convince myself, dull suspension is a hoax.
I reach out to dim the lights above my haggard, traveled mind.
Pleading,
‘I own the rocking
the rolling
of
rock bottom.’
As on cue, my brain waves…
chaos lingers on.