My mind feels like a tendon
Stretched beyond its limits;
Struggling to find balance
Without over-reaction.
Dull ache molasses
Moving through my skull
Limited mobility:
There's nowhere to go.
Cloudy thoughts trapped
Inside thick syrup channels--
This wayfarer struggles
To see where she's going.
"This too shall pass," I think,
And so goes my mind--
The Tendon Stretch--
Reliant upon that final cliche.
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