Regret winding around the office today as my
Therapist listened. Anxiety formed a hundred
pounds of clay digging deep within the collapse
of my hands. Clay now snapped into dust drowned
in my eyes. Night brings the same old darkness and
hides the hands and the legs of this greedy intruder.
Morning comes and the window collapsed, the
strong breeze enters shaving the house.
My future an uncertainty of memories stolen
from a thousand words now driven into a thief's
eye. Empathy maybe, but no stability can the
Therapist tender as this war within breaks through
my sleep. I slept as the intruder entered my home
and robbed me of over 250 poems on my computer.