Buzz

Days drift by like shadows before I can catch a glimpse

I look at my hand and try to remember the feeling of your fingers between mine.

Icy air passes through my lungs
onerously
as if they are bored of breathing.

I watch the grey sky and wonder how long these clouds plan to stay.

I wander the city,

lost

not with the usual sense of novel excitement though.

In and out of bookshops like a subtle breeze,

through bustling coffee shops in hopes 

that their percussion 

will drown out those voices I do not want to hear.

Through lazy parks

where motion is on pause.

This green haze leads me to a blissful suffocation

where lack of ventilation means my mind too slows

even if just for a moment.

But then I must go on

I cannot stop

If I stop I will surely be consumed

I fear the night the most 

when I must stay in the dark

stay in one place

where the speed of my body cannot match the speed of my mind.

I wander like a bumblebee that cannot see the way out 

even though to others it is clear as the crystal glass 

as a cloudless sky.

But how to make these clouds go away

I huff and I puff but with little result except my head hurts

the pain is dull and aching

it spins around and around

so I cannot seek solace in even one corner of my mind