It sounds like a pet shop
in my head, the twitching
tongues of birds, the spinning
of rodent’s wheels, the tap
of reptiles on the glass.
The animals never stop living
inside my head.
On some days it feels like chaos,
like they’re all running free,
no cages
no glass
running free inside my head
while the world burns inside it
never silent.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
It sounds like a pet shop
in my head, the twitching
tongues of birds, the spinning
of rodent’s wheels, the tap
of reptiles on the glass.
The animals never stop living
inside my head.
On some days it feels like chaos,
like they’re all running free,
no cages
no glass
running free inside my head
while the world burns inside it
never silent.
Anybody else ever have to extinguish a runaway train of thought?
Request permission to use this poem