My Muddling Reality.

Confusion and uneasiness, blooming like a nauseating flower inside my stomach.
So much, so many,
Dipping, curving, swirling, soaring.

It's not sharp enough to hurt, but it's loud and jumbled enough to burn like buried embers,
Under the surface, unable to escape until it's uncovered and stoked with reality and fervor.

Focus sifting through complex compartments,
My notions of life becoming unsteady, their once sturdy bows cracking under strain.

Fingernails scrape across my scalp, digging in, the trail of sting almost unfelt.

Laughter, tears, anger and dizziness, bubbling and stewing, fighting to be released at the same time.

Too many things, too many things,
I want out, I want to leave.

But this is bewildered reality, there are no true corners to hide in, just illusions of the desperate spirit.

Anxious, nerves ripping and pulling, thoughts racing, emotions and idea's crumbling.

This may be the end, but my only fear is that I will be forgotten, slipped among the others buried and falsely grieved over.