Slow

When its all just a little too much . . my first published one

Sometimes I like to walk slow,

As if my thoughts would then slow down too.

Because I like to believe that they could understand you,

Like  they could be aware of my pain,

as really my thoughts and me are one and the same.

They know the slower I am, the slower they need to become.

To a point that I can start to make sense of the jumbled mess I have made,

In this chaotic world that churns.

But the world keeps spinning so fast,

And now I'm just too dizzy.

These thoughts swim so quick,

They’re just too heavy.

The weight equates to nothing else,

Heavier than gravity,

But lighter than sound,

And in its sense it just surrounds.

There's confusion within, 

Yet a sense of knowing to come.

That I’m still here standing.

But only until I’m completely done.