Panic room

Laying silently
watching ferocious flames
through a tiny window pane
and this is enough
this is enough
this is enough.

Used to have to panic,
fill my eyes, my mind,
fill every second
one thing, nothing, was ever enough
had to fill my time, my mind with this
immaculately, orderly, cluttered disease
with mindless bullshit on TV
and crosswords
and laptops
or tidying
and clicking
switching repeatedly.

Switch it.
switch it.
switch it off.
Check it.
check it.
Check again.
Stop it,
stop it,
stop it,
Fraying at the seams
In a frantic routine
that never ends.
Stuck on repeat,
a spiral of defeat
a never-ending scene
a constant block,
an OCD routine.

Now this is enough
this is enough
this is enough.

But happiness blocks, writing stops.

And then…
Do I want it back?
Feign trouble for art
Uncover that troubled, troubled head
Regain that controlled, addicted, lonely heart.
That beautiful compulsion to repeat, undo, redo, retread.