I crouch within a whirlwind
Of tangled tumbling black-and-yellow moods
That hiss and shout and shriek.
I blink within a dust cloud that pollutes my vision.
I open my mouth to explain
But a chorus of bats fly out.
There are cobwebs in the parts of my heart
That have to stay locked
Because no one is safe enough
To enter these danger zones;
Memories outlined in crime scene tape,
Chalk outlines of innocent trespasses.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I cough and choke as dust fills my nose, mouth, and throat..
I can’t speak.
The whirlwind won’t stop.
The spinning won’t stop.
I am not the problem.
I am not the whirlwind.
I am a small earnest person
Who is trapped.