My head is heavier than usual tonight
My hands occupied
But they're holding yours, and I appreciate the comfort
My back is strained by the unbearable weight of weightless ghosts
Who without asking, choose it to carry them, and their burdens additionally
And stealing strength to support my own

I have no other space available to store sustenance and life support
So I  mimic a tribeswoman, by making use of my head
-but, it's not water I balance-
No, instead it carries small tokens collected from friendly strangers
Who throw in their chips, to be later exchanged for currency of no value

My head is not the ideal surface
Being round and uneven, it leaves little option
I have to balance them, one on top of the other
Struggling to stack them evenly, and keep them in place

My steps create  turbulence
I feel as if I'm in a boat riding a raging sea
I feel the stack sway with my movements- as if being thrown around by ferocious waves
I yearn for this never ending storm to clear
To once again sail the calm tides

With an overflowing head, and overbearing load
Strength is spread and lessened in ability
Composure has to be forced, and my deceit shows in each step
This game of Jenga is hard to keep in play

Its a gamble, which, as all bets do, appears fair
But we know, the house always wins
With little birds watching your every move
Keeping their distance, their songs convincing ego to do the ***** work instead

The guards sit back behind closed doors,
Watching their screens and waiting for their plans to come into action
All the while, pushing thoughts of winning from daydream to an idea realistic
Unnaturally high paranoia is a fortunate misfortune
Encouraging natural instinct to flee, rather than fight

I abandon seat before it is even warmed
And move take whatever winnings I have
Not risking a double cross from Lady Luck, at my left
And be stripped of much more than the chips on the table

I walk to the wall of cashiers, my mind in sprint
The counters have gold ledged windows,  as if they are framing works of art
My playful mind and artistic eye envision paintings in their stead
And I find that the motionless figures inside add believability to my imagination

Keeping fingers tight on their gold has them hypnotised
The picture stilled from the concentration exerted
I know now to avoid these cashiers
And in honesty, it is fear not knowledge that keeps my distance

You never know what could happen if you disrupt the masterpiece