The Scribbler

13 October 2009

3am blog

Filed under: words — The Scribbler @ 03:18

I’m wound tighter than a twister. Dancing on my toes, guard up, ready to explode.

A fried blue metallic sizzle. Circuits in overdrive, neurons pinballing. Magnesium fizzes, burns sharp bright white and leaves a round black hole.

Forgetting and remembering too late. Frustrated thoughts stranded like cracked spaghetti.

Bile creeps to my breastbone, binding me in impatience. To do, to please, to act my part. Conscious that one wrong move could send me spiralling. My gut a burning cauldron.

I close my eyes and see the calmness of a sea breeze. The smoothness of a gliding movement through the air. The easy rhythm of breath and feet. The emptiness of mind.

But this too must wait.

Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: