I use my shaded 3rd and 4th eyes
To hide indifference
And at times I feel a post-dentist numbness
Across the expanse of my mind
And it begins to seep
Leak
Sneak
Into the marrow and tendons of my being
Hey.
Ask me later if I give a sh*t

Alliteration isn't cheesy
Not for me.
When I use words to stave off the clutching squeeze of
A panic attack
I can write:

"There is pressure on my chest and I feel anxious."
or
"Pain presses me into purgatorial prayers."

Alliteration becomes the stutter into which I
Skid to a stop

My brain has become
An unavoidable trap
Filled with nostalgia

Tired to the point of
Weighted-sandbags-in-my-bones
That no rest can cure

Obsessively focused on black ink swimming from my pen
Keep me floating in this storm
When writing stops, this craft sinks into the frothing waves
Poseiden's domain, beckoning.
Compelled to cling, to coping that only works temporarily
For this well now springs forward only from time spent held back
Dammed up, concrete walls held strong, but defective
This flood
This Flood
THIS FLOOD
I flee, not fight, furtive failings of final flips into the film
Thin membrane, now breached and spilling
Oh god why can't I stop this?
Oh god why can't YOU stop this?
I am done.
Despite dealing with doom, with despair
How strong the maelstrom I now succumb to

Grip the wheel
         Hold Fast
Waves will crash
         Hold Fast
Take your time
         Hold Fast
This too, shall pass
         Hold Fast

I need to recall
What it felt like to look up
And always see hope