Stricken

My racing mind has a mind of its own
To turn it off is blood from a stone
Counting slowly, breathing deeply
But who’s kidding whom? Tonight I’m not sleeping.

I am stricken, my chest feels tight
I’m sick of picking fight or flight
Broken open, down inside
Almost choking on my swallowed pride

My heavy heart isn’t getting any lighter
It wants what it wants with every fiber
Tell it to try to replace what’s missing
But who’s kidding whom? It’s not willing to listen.

I am stricken, can’t catch my wind
Beats are skipping, the air feels thin
Insides are churning, stirring the pit
Heart is burning, my head is split

I need relief from my condition
A brief reprieve or a full remission
Buyer beware the snake oil dealer
The medicine man or the faith healer
The only treatment is a mirror

My weary soul is calling a truce
My head and heart, to stop fighting the truth
Tell my eyes to see the bright side
But who’s kidding whom?