i tumble

you know it’s not right, my mind;

disobedient, a wayward part of it;

not curbed, all the time on its own;

hell would be sweet, if it lashed out.

thoughts it cannons, dare it musters;

can’t dream of it, mind of fire it has;

no strings, no lip seals, there is evil;

and the vanity, self and the side wild.

you know it’s not right, my mind;

i look around, and all seems fake;

it rips the cover, and sees through;

i am disoriented, think it’s the mind.

why is something missing, is it me;

why do i focus staring at the ceiling;

twitchy as army of horses and men;

i keep touching the roof of hot tin.

something changed, my head hides it;

i am tumbling, and tumbling upward;

my glass thoughts, keep me looking;

you know it’s not right, my mind.