Pandemonium: A Mind’s Hunt

When your mind doesn’t stop turning,
You find that it finds every little aspect, point, and detail
To magnify, flip over, and turn around and round

You overanalyze, overconsume, and overestimate
Every little glance, shrug, or whisper
And convince yourself of something, even when there’s nothing to be found

All the thoughts zig-zag, crisscross, & circle
They enclose decisions, second guesses, and the door
Which you could open… but then you wouldn’t be so tightly wound

Those voices in your head chatter above the choices
The muted groans grow to higher pitches
As your discombobulating pandemonium makes a million sounds

All the while your mind keeps building
Those reasons, arguments, and logic you once knew were good…
Still that anxious, worrisome, clatter keeps your focus bound

This is the life of an overanxious overthinker
Someone who fires the gun and makes her choices
But still hears the ringing, the echoes, of her misshapen targets—
A dull and sometimes deep pound, pound, pound---

Perhaps my neurotransmitters are the only ones to fire in this way
But below the over-sensitized confusion and apprehension
Is a statement, a choice, and outcome I know had to drum ahead anyway

Life buries deep, dirty, and rotting answers underneath our foundations
So the writers scribble lines, jot down notes, and dig into the annotation
Jumbled words search for deeper meaning, like a restless hound.

-- Written by Sandy Heights

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