Midnight Ritual

Eyes circle the ceiling,
lapping rapidly
looking to reach an end.
Faster than anyone can explain
they hurdle over the present
to the mounting what if’s
from ‘what about this…’
to ‘what about that…’
over and over again.

The pounding within increases
preventing myself from breathing.
The more it goes, the more I’m in too deep.
There’s talk of methods,
how to prevent this,
how to make it stop,
but here we are:
sweat dripping,
wall holding,
legs buckling,
waiting for the moment
when it all comes
crashing down.

Reasons differ each time
but always the same sense
of slipping out of control.
Too much to do,
and yet I paralyze.
Which of these
will prove my worth?
Which of these
will be the death of me?

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