Tightening…

Compressed down, the screws tightened until wood pressing against wood splinters into slivers.

The day has trickled its way into my conscious in the turning of the fasteners until I sit prostrate on my bed typing, with acetaminophen assuaging the pounding behind my eye sockets.

The blur, and the swirl of the day with emotions, my nerves ramped and heightening to new levels of anxiety that throb in regions just yet discovered like explorers charting new territories along my brain’s pathways.

I had coherent visions of blog posts, but they began to be too numerous to formulate in individual posts; they crowded, shouted and melded. So, I type this pained response, somewhere between blog and poetry, to unburden a heart and mind that has been tightened, fastened, splintered, and unleavened in hopes of unburdening my soul as the drug softens my head.

Life can often equally burden and boggle, and all there is left is fragments of thoughts strung together with words, painting images, to lessen the pressure, release the valve and drift to oblivion.

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