The eye of the tempest--
The churning of impending catastrophe,
A false security blanket
Engloves every square inch,
Every neuron of my left-sided brain.
Once the mind is idle--
Even undetectably, imperceptibly,
Even for a millionth of a second--
A flash flood of memories
Saturates my sponge of a brain
Overflowing my teacup,
Me being the too-little spoon
And not knowing how to swim.
Sometimes, they're blissful--
The way I blossomed in spring
Under your madcap care
My mind opening like your lips
Beneath my earlobe,
My paper crown disintegrating
And constantly being remade--
Refilled with love and precious gems.
Sometimes, they're painful--
Your pretensions constantly
Making me feel obtuse and childlike,
Continuously casting my sentiments aside,
And how starless tears streamed,
Your fuzzy face gleaming in my eyes
As you lied without hesitation.
Sometimes, they're realistic--
Whilst writing the postscript,
I realized nothing in the world
Could have been as spiritual or as biting
As you pronouncing the words,
"I don't remember that whole year."