my crazy
likes structure
repetitive
actions
for the last
five years
it has been
the same
thousand or so
songs
on my ipod
coffee
in the
morning
clockwork
poetry
writing sessions
in empty
parking lots
routine.
the coffee
remained
canned on this
cold
friday morn
my ipod
won’t hold
a charge
trusted
friends
became
outright
hostile
and the music
is out of my
control
being pummeled
by songs
that bring back
buried sorrows
flashbacks
to times best
left forgotten
feeling lesser than
for feeling happy
as memories
remind me
that i have
always been
marginally
lesser than
my crazy
likes structure
repetitive
actions
yet everywhere
around me
is chaos
pulling my head
downdowndown
beneath
the waves
