if only

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If only
I could chisel
Letters, vowel(ing)
Form fitted
Thoughts

Pain radiates
On left side in waves
Transforming into a banshee
Flounder, floundering
In final throes

Writing
Is love’s labor
enforced by habit
done by rote controlled
by mind’s remote

emoting bonhomie
twenty-four –seven
is fast becoming hard nut
to crack as crumbling structure
glassily eye needles

mind
over matter
matter over mind
wondering who will succeed
in getting upper hand

finis

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