My head,
It’s so full of wool !
It’s fuzzy and frumpy,
And oh so jumpy!
Infinite thoughts,
Tied into blank knots.
It’s all a blur,
Yet so very clear.

I open my eyes wondering
who I'll meet today;
Will it be the cynic
filled with hate
or the hoper
filled with dream,
Will it be the pragmatic
never on the fence
or the high strung
edgy and tense?
Will it be the extrovert
ready to greet
or the recluse
bound to the sheets,
Will it be the friend
selfless and tender
or the egotistical
aloof and self-centered ?
Will it be the stoic
taking everything in stride
or the one that falls apart
at the touch of a snide,
Will it be the confident
believing and farseeing
or the one thats doubts
the very being ?
I open my eyes wondering
which one of my selves I'll find today.

The grey day, the dark clouds,
The sway of the branch.
The darkness, the thunder,
The shatter of breaking glass.
The teeming street,
Now deserted.
The purposeful rider,
His only purpose to find refuge.
And through my own looking glass,
I find a calm.
A fleeting calm that washes over,
A calm deep enough for me to see
The haven the turmoil created within me.

Some felt like that party you get dressed for,
Some felt like the fourth glass of wine.
Some felt like that smell of spirit,
Some felt like the highest high.
But you,
You felt like home.
Like the sweet delirious sleep,
Like the smell of the pillow each morning
You know you’ll leave for the day
But return to come moonrise.
You felt like nothingness,
Like the smile of a tiny joy.
You felt like comfort,
And you will forever more.