Chaos

My thoughts. Diffracted like light out of a prism,

scrambled, as random as pi. 

Scattered like pigeons from an approaching gang;

yet collected like rare stamps. 

Where I have been I know

Where I am going I have know clue. 

My body fills with a warmth,

a warmth which spreads from scalp to toe:

The warmth is followed by a total happiness

a thought i can hold on to. 

A safety buoy in a stormy ocean of emotions and thoughts. 

The voice of ration and sense 

desperately fighting 

to stop being drowned 

out.