I say left, it says right.
I want to walk on the path.
It wants to trip on the grass.
I lift the spoon to my mouth.
It pours the soup down my chin.
Mixed messages,
Mismatched thoughts,
Scrambled and diced,
tangled and tossed,
flooding my confused brain.
Circuits overload,
Wires are crossed.
Pathways are lost.
My body, a weary vessel
Screams �Enough, stop!�
We make a strange team..
Me and It
Dysfunctional parts,
a body and mind,
That just won�t fit.
By:
Kathie Stehr
April 25,2000