Overthinker
cling-clangs against my brain
feign solutions but they’re all the same
feasts for frantic fissions
unbridled, undeniably out of
control
the drug I’ve always craved
but can’t do a thing other than
think
did I say it wrong?
did they hear me right?
I’m sure of it
So unsure of it
I may be wrong
maybe all is well
I stay and play
a version volley of how I came across
hop synapses
race to reason if I’ve done enough
for the people who needed me
the redemption of humanity
have I seen them fully?
will anyone fully see me?
I suppose the only way to show you
is to spill me out all over
this notepad which isn’t really paper
but a notes app
no way to try to be anything
especially not a poet
but here I am, my mind a soft stone
my art an anvil
thoughts so scrambled
ink is no good either
I cut and scrape it out of me
the liquid life that once was me
flows across
running down and all around
ravishing red is left
you fully see me
an overthinker
© Candice Reineke 2020
Candice Reineke
Sat 28th Nov 2020 21:31
Right, Paul?!
I edited this, as any overthinker would. ?