They are back again
dreams swirling through my mind
like a bad omen
an endless maze of
buried memories
abstract and nauseating

a hangover of doubt
I am feeling today
agitation and malaise
consuming me
why can’t I be who I wish to be?
why do I spin on this endless wheel?

others seem to have the answers for me
exhausted by my malcontent
though not nearly as much as I
a woman on the brink of middle age
falling prey to the traps that
dictate my life.

Emily C. Poésie © 2019