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Image for the poem Disordered

Disordered

Little rhyme here
No rhythm known to chaos
The clear thinking strewn straight away
A puzzle scattered
Lacking form
Lapsing, collapsing
In sharp fragments
Shards sticking sharply from the bedroom floor
The pulse sounding down the hall
Repetitive, ad nauseam
No choir behind cacophony
Merely offenses not clearly heard
A madman on a malicious spree
 
But she manages to comfort me
The puzzle's edges now aligned
Her healing touch a true blessing
To a fragile, endangered mind.
Written by crowfly
Published
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