All kinds of Moody

Some-days you can

have it happen,

that you fall in-between

the spaces

and your falling-

through the cracks, on the bedroom wall,

as the paint peels backwards

and you feel nothing, no nothing at all.

 

Then there are the other days,

where the day itself

catches you by surprise

and you realize

you are all kinds of Moody.

 

Running rampant

from sorrow to grief

to solemn and to bitterness-

across the angry loophole of rage.

 

Some-days you cry for no reason

at all. Or you may find you are

hysterically laughing at absolutely nothing,

no nothing at all.

 

I find the more, i try to pinpoint,

what I am feeling-

the more it becomes vague-

all kinds of Moody.

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