The tornado in my core is spinning me around,
The absence of variety is bringing me down.
The pills, the therapy, the truth isn’t nice,
My torture, unable to take my own advice.
Keep making the same mistakes, time and again.
Deepening the ever expanding stain.
Confusing my beloved with apathy and moods,
Desertion or abandonment, I think I wish she would.
Once more on edge, all good thoughts set sail
Taunting me, baiting me, wanting me to fail.
Against a backdrop of mindless roiling black cloud,
Surely pain like this isn’t allowed?
Always a roundabout, never the swings.
And then today, the tornado wins.