five seconds in my head
5 things I can see. Easy.
The bathroom light.
My jelly-like hands.
The curtains blowing in the wind.
The frames of my glasses.
My loose hair.
4 things I can touch. Easy.
The cold mosaic floor.
My jagged nails.
My hands. That’s cheating.
My hair. That’s cheating.
3 things I can hear. Too easy.
The tick of the clock.
The fan blades.
Swallowing.
My clothes rubbing against each other.
My grandmother coughing.
Dogs howling.
My teeth.
The keyboard clicking.
A scooter engine starting.
Scratches.
My breathing.
Too easy.
2 things I can smell. I hate this one.
Mehendi.
Nothing.
1 thing I can taste. Okay.
The rust on my necklace.
Like blood.
Does it count as two things?
It never works.
Does it?
Write it.
Short.
Easy.
It’s not perfect.
It never will be.
Make it worse.
On your own.
At least it's your own type of bad.
That feels good.
Simple.
Control.
Control.
Pounding against my skull.
The noise is pounding against my skull.
Like a hammer.
The noise is a hammer and my head is its nail of choice.
There’s a better metaphor out there.
Where’s the off switch?
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Go to sleep.
But the dreams come while I'm awake.
No, those are nightmares.
Waking nightmares. Never asleep.
Clouds. Smoke.
Fogging up my brain.
Until it rains.
When will it rain?