The Möbius Strip of My Mind

I sit in this chair that's biting at me.
Something on the tip of my tongue,
A word that's snapping at my ankles.

Boredom.

Today I woke up and wrote,
I swam through my head
And took something away.

Poetic License.

I get home and crash out
Fade to black out
The night out
That loud shout
The only thing I got out

Fatigue.

The fear rear's its ugly head

Mine's uglier.

We twist and writhe
As in a centrifuge
An endless paradox
Something had to give way.

Me.