Nervous Blur
duck and weave
calm before the storm is a myth
quiet lightning continual impact
static thumping void
my stomach is the pit
and the pendulum
maybe I’m fighting illusion
maybe sleep has claws
I carry too much trouble
angry awake uneasy
my doctor talks like a king cobra
or a goddamn salesman
paranoid I’m leaning on my knuckles
I’ll go another round