The mind sheds fragments of thought.
Disjointed.
Threads pulled from a fabric.
Why can I never find the
pencil
chapstick
that falls to the bottom of my purse?
I am coming apart falling to pieces sectioning
like the tangerine that limply peels away cracks and dries.
Tell me what was I doing? North South
East West splinter endlessly.
I carried the scissors mindlessly to the other side of the house
put them down and now cannot find them again.
Irritation rises in the throat.
Thoughts sprint in opposite directions like a room of toddlers.
I am losing
my unity losing
the clarity of youth.
Help me, I say
to the cat.
Caffeine fails its mission
only speeding up the disintegration.
What was I saying and where was I going?
Something has been lost but
I can’t remember what it is.
My attention scattered like children’s socks on the bedroom carpet.
The color of exasperation is a dull red with raw edges.
I was thinking that
there is never enough time for sleep.
When did girlhood bid farewell
and this tired woman move in?
