My brain,
a mess, when u visually see;
it looks like a scrambled mess,
All the wires confused,
No messages seem to be getting through.
No sense is made, going backwards and forwards and everywhere inbetween.
I feel like my brain is full of wool,
tangled ball, a ball of wool.
Needs pulling through
Unwinding,
Writing,
Helps with this.
Enables a process.
Unwinds the tangled heaped mess.
As I write, the wool is being pulled out my head.
A finger on either side, carefully guiding it out,
Pulling the scramble from my brain, making it tidy again,
All the perfect colours are coming through; purple, pink orange and blue, these are the colours of the wool.
The colours of my heart come too, come oozing out in the wool.
It is being pulled so fast, I see pink, red, more red too.
It feels like I am bleeding for you.
Changes to Yellow bright in the sky, remembering all the beautiful times;
I hit a knot, then it turns black,
like being trapped in a dark scary spot.
The black continues, then its green, full of envy and jealousy, jealous of me, my friends and job. So sad, it really was.
I keep pulling at the wool;
the colours are coming, more sense is too;
unwinding the wool from between my ears.
Poetry such a beautiful art,
Feeling calmer now,
a sense of serene,
The feeling coming over me,
Thanks to my love of thee.
