In The Works

I think too much
—So much that my mind hazes into mush,
That I trip on the cracks
Of sidewalks that laugh
At my stumbling, ditsy-like ways.

How can I make the noise go away?
Perhaps, a mere touch of my phone
Will keep my sinking ship of a mind afloat.
Only melodies of broken-hearted voices
Vanish my worries of making tough choices:
School, home, love, life
Why do we succumb to such internal strife?

I think of how I want to live my years ahead,
Hoping my dreams would be fulfilled as I lay in bed.
Or perhaps my mind should just go blank.

Perhaps I should forget how to think.

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