Sometimes I have to escape and to do that I turn and look inward,
In the offices of my mind where the inner self can unwind, there is sanctuary.
I listen carefully to the beat of this butterfly heart,
even then barely starting to make sense of it, it, being the reasons I make to escape.
If out of disorder which teeters on the edge of my madness I could put into order my thoughts on each subject at hand,
I’d stand some chance of peace and harmony instead of this roulette wheel I’m in spinning a zero and harming me.
I’d just fuck up if I did dope to get clear of it,
I either do it in free fall or I don’t do it at all.
Hopefully, hope is in me waiting for me to appear,
I escape and look inward and forwards and onward as
this crossword clue of a day gets away from me.
© 2015, John Smallshaw.