Writing From The Deep End

Words are piling up inside my head,

But with no clear order or composition,

Yet, almost cyclical in repetition,

Creating confusion and distraction from my reality.

They need to come out. I doubt.

I stall. My emotions fall.

Yet I continue to hold them inside.

(Those thoughts are a mess) Let them slide.

It doesn't work.

My mind is swimming in swells of overthinking.

Cognition sinking,

I can't concentrate on anything else.

Disorder, frustration,

I must confront this creation.

And so I pick up a pen, Writing again.