I must insist, brain,
That you quiet down.
Yes, I am the boss of you.
Even if, at this minute,
That seems untrue.
Even if taking you captive
Seems an impossible feat,
I can no longer afford your company
In its current way of being.
You have taunted and shamed
And convinced me that
All my best parts are buried and forgotten.
Encouraged me to blame.
Riddled me with confusion.
And though “I listen to my words but they fall far below”* *Cat Stevens
As an honest admission
Sounds terribly weak and puny,
There is truth to it.
In spite of all your efforts to confound me,
(And with so much life feeling to be swallowing me up)
Maybe I ought to be relieved.
In healthier moments
Such “sensitivity” coins as “virtuous.”
I don’t know what makes the difference:
Why and when moments posing as majestic or terrible
As savor-able or unbearable
As breathtaking mountaintop or suffocating pit
Before today too light, too cheesy
In light of today’s darkness
Held just about too much poignancy to bear.
I want to put words to this
more-than-anxiety more-than-depression more-than-difficult
Suffice it to say
I want to figure it out,
Only it’s you who needs do the figuring
(you and your ridiculously murky waters).
Come to think of it,
Such navigation requires a sounder captain.
I think I’ll ask your Maker.
‘Cause for all your best efforts,
He’ll undo you
In all and truly best ways…