Too Many Thoughts Syndrome

Sins accrue in the body
Wearing us inside out
Portending demise
Certain, triumphant.

The sun is coming.

It will reach me soon
Warmth bringing succor
As deep and real, lasting
As long as love.

My fingers are a mess.

Skin frays and blooms
With welling blood,
Rising to reveal reason’s
Just a passing jest.

Too many thoughts.

Words are the friend
You want desperately
To delineate meaning,
But garbles it instead.



3 thoughts on “Too Many Thoughts Syndrome

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