Fighting this ridiculous war of thoughts brought by anxiety
Over many nothings that turn into somethings in my curled heart,
Which is the only part that feels the thrill of unaccounted pain
In plain view of my tumultuous soul with hole so large not even
An exceptionally mammoth barge full of joy could fill it up,
And so I sup on sorrows borrowed from vain imaginations concocted
In the kitchen of my psyche complete with tasteless salt
And sour lemon laced with self-pity in plenty, and I wonder why I’m
So dry, and so I cry just to wet my face and try to keep pace
With my raging emotions on their roller-coaster ride from which
I’ve tried to jump off, but with lump in my throat, held on instead
For dear life, even so drear, hoping I’m near the end of this

Note: Congratulate me! I just made up a new word. Can you guess which one? LOL


9 thoughts on “Ridiculomania

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