a nervous song

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You’re the lost one amongst the sorted,
Wanting things that nobody wanted;
Against the grain, fog in the brain,
You dream, they think it’s in vain.

You hope your silence is understood,
Even when your words are not;
Time, the great healer, is all you’ve got.
The brain’s racing, the heart’s numb,
You see things they find dumb.

You do things you can’t undo,
Say words you can’t unsay;
Embrace anxiety, equanimity at bay.
Their love has a crater, you see it as a chink,
Your love’s like boiling milk, overflowing at the brink.

You’re the restless one amongst the settled,
Wrestling with things that nobody wrestled;
Against the grain, fog in the brain,
They will read and yet not get the pain.


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