I went to make a sandwich,
but forgot the slice of bread—
found myself with just some mustard,
smearing socks instead.
I grabbed my keys to leave the house,
but oops! They weren’t in sight,
turned out they were in the freezer,
snuggled next to frozen Sprite.
I texted you at midnight,
though I meant to call at noon,
my thoughts are like balloons that pop—
or maybe more like spoons?
I try to focus, really do,
but here’s the constant strain:
my brain’s a lively circus,
and I’m the clown… with no reins.
So if I seem a little lost,
or zig instead of zoom,
just know my head’s a busy place—
a pinball in a room!
Therapy Bits 
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