Spinning // Poetry

Room is spinning

just not winning

 

try my best to catch my breath

thoughts submerge to darkest depths

to rise again beneath the waves

perhaps for a couple days

 

dipping. Dipping

 

down again

staring through torrential rain

no umbrella

goes on forever

 

dripping. Dripping

 

cold and wet

and crimson red

promised not to cut no more

didn’t even have a cause

 

tipping. Tipping

 

over the edge

so read or talk or write or sketch

something healthy

nothing risky

 

skipping. Skipping

 

like a child

remember how you used to smile

trips to the beach

and trick-or-treat

 

gripping. Gripping

 

the side of the bath

thinking how they always laughed

laughing now?

That sneering sniggering menacing howl

 

slipping. Slipping

 

in and out

sirens, monitors, mama’s shout

lingering, flickering, drifting

the clouds at long last shifting

 

Anonymous