596 – Dizzy

It’s always the damned voices
In her head.

Regrets
Gleefully chat among themselves,
Fueled by too much stress
And bad ideas.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

Bourbon
Sternly critiques
Her reflection on the tumbler
With a disapproving look.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

Daydreams
Dig into her brain,
Stumbling now and then
With some sad memory.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

Rain
Keeps whispering her name,
As it carelessly dances
On the roof tiles.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

Laughter
Kicks all doors wide open,
Making her feel dizzy
And annoyed.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

Sleep
Gently taps her shoulder,
And courteously begins
To clean her mess.

She doesn’t want to listen,
But she has to.

It’s always the damned voices
In her head.

• • •