The Madness – inside or outside?
Spin
Do not stop
Focus on your starving fingers
Feel all else fade before your
Selfish existence.
Your eyes start to roll
You are trapped in this dance
Like the stepmothers who choose to
Wear iron shoes and still
Take elegant steps.
Your feet are naked
You feel this mad world
Turning you
Around and around
Until you do not know yourself
Your name is jumbled letters.
It strikes you
Allows you to center yourself
It is you
Not the world that is
Mad.
Jaya Avendel lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, writing family into fantasy and dabbling in poetry and prose. Her writing has been published at Visual Verse, Free Verse Revolution, and Spillwords Press. She writes at ninchronicles.com.
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