Is there meaning in the madness?
The careless moments strung together like broken Christmas lights inside a cave
The moments that ***** your fingers and draw unwelcome blood
The madness that you rage against inside your chest

Most days, yes
I say as a soliloquy, sipping my tea and watching the passing storm clouds
My eyes are wet but my heart has dried
Opened up and beating forth.
But today, I don’t think so
I can’t bring myself to say yes
For I am emblazoned in a firestorm
All consuming
There is only hurt –
And doubt –
And loss –
And isolation –
My eyes are no longer stinging
They are burning
Almost bleeding
Today I can’t blink away the shadows

This madness is finding me
Entwining me
And, at times, defining me
As I remain motionless trapped in the endless webs
Searching through crowds of strangers to find myself
And turning up empty every time.