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