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
the hitting
of
rock bottom.’
As on cue, my brain waves…
chaos lingers on.
