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