Madness Suppressed
Allergy medication seems to press my brain through
my skull until it runs out of my ears, thoughts and life
force leaving me, I stumble on like a Golem without a
chem, unable to accomplish anything
A concentration span of one second at most, one foot
in a sandal, the other in flipflops, only one earring, too
anxious to stand still long enough to get hold of the other,
pressure and confusion mounting
Stopping every task to tackle another one halfdone also,
starting on an official text then realising I don’t know who
I am nor where I am – aha, a dead giveaway that I am no
longer part of this universe - where
An actor always knows at least one of these things, I feel
worms crawling in my eardrums, takes all my self-control
not to fish them out with a sharp knife, I hope allergy attack
over before I go irretrievably mad - and
Cannot return to the conventionally normal state of
suppressed madness in which we all live…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Added by Poetry Lover
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