Listen

Why is my brain
Like earbuds tangled
Straight out of
A pocket unorganized?

Distraction like a dog
Hunting down a squirrel
Darting up a tree--
Barking all along the way.

Mood like swings
When we were kids,
But dragging along
The woodchips
Beneath our toes,
Struggling to soar above.

Repetition like a
Broken record,
Broken record,
Broken record,
No record of an end.

Like a tree
Towering over
A crushed flower,
But merely
A memory
Of what trauma
Occurred before.

And anxiety.
I'm an artichoke,
Choking on what I
Need to say,
But can't.

If only they were to
Slow
Down,
Consider my
Different way of
Speaking,
And read
What I can't verbalize.

My voice is found
In the place it takes
Care to look
And consideration
To hear.