I am a mess.
I have been reduced to the individuality of my parts
Instead of the sum of them.
I am one part frustration.
A little fluffy kitten ball of rage
Everything annoys me
The sound of the air conditioner rattling to life
The way my left hand curls into a fist when I walk.
The welts on my skin from where my nails dug in too deep.
I am two parts energy.
Revved up on caffeine and alcohol,.
A junkie looking for her next fix.
Jumping from project to project,
Pacing in an endless circle.
Nine steps forward and nine steps back.
Everything snatches up my attention
Before it is easily lost again
To the next shiny new adventure.
My final part is filled with sadness.
A little girl crying out for her mother as the hour grows late.
Anxious and quivering in the dark
While flashbacks play over and over
An endless stream of reruns on every channel.
Broken, bruised, and scarred.
All at once too much apathy and emotion.
A broken record.
A shaking hand reaching for the bottle of pills on the nightstand
There’s too much stimulation
But not enough of it
If that makes sense.
So I pace and I scratch
Trying to put the pieces back together
In this rapidly shattering life.