The fair was this week
and to be frank I'm a wreck.

The idea of being merry
spins sickeningly in my head.

My throat tight from choking down
the blurry memories whirring about.
I'm worrying about looking merry.
Just go-round those thoughts you'll be fine.
"It just takes time".

But here's the thing;
when you go in a circle,
no matter how high, low, or fast,
you'll pass by that same spot;
the present quickly matching the past.

You're stuck in that same rotation
until someone else decides it's done.
Glued in an orbit otherly orchestrated,
the blind faith of all in the hands of one.

Spinning, turning
stomach churching,
Why can't I undo what's been done?
Why couldn't I be your only one?
Where am I when others are having fun?
Is this all for not or not for none?
I wish I could run.

But up here,
elevated inches closer to the sun,
I'm stuck
in an otherly orchestrated orbit.

To be fair,
I was ultimately let down,
me and my orchestrator once again on
fair ground.
Yet I fear
I'm still spinning, turning
thoughts and stomach churning
and, to be frank,
I'm still wrecked.