Racing Thoughts

They will never stop rushing,
never shut off, these
worries about how much
food I actually eat,
and how much I waste each year.

They are the packet of papers,
two thick envelopes full
of questions about money,
and how I spend it,
tempting me to fill them out,

the neon pile of mismatched socks
that never seem to get any
smaller, however many you
have tracked down,

the box of Christmas presents
still untouched, that I received
from Tennessee with
thinly veiled contempt,

and the poems I still cannot
locate, which file are they in?
Why are they not where I put
them? Can I still meet

They are the assignments that
I have been slowly chipping at,
trying not to repeat mistakes
in unguarded neglect.

And as systematic as I may seem,
lists and calculations do not
calm my anxious mind, they only stir it
deeper into madness, and down away
I fall, feeling only sinking
when I wistfully look back up from where I’d fallen.


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