Fleeting

Fleeting

The swirling madness

That my brain

Is comprised of

Will

Occasionally

And briefly

Coalesce

Into a series of words

That makes sense

Of the world around me

In a way

I find so beautiful.

I must write them down

Before they are lost

Forever.

Sand

I have

Accidentally

Cheated death

Many times.

As punishment

I have been forced

To live my life

As if

I were

Sisyphus' rock

Never making it to the top

Never winning

Always falling

And breaking

Into

Increasingly

Smaller pieces

With every failure.

I always try

To cobble

Those chunks

Together again

Despite the fact

I know

I never

Will.

Now I am

Just a pile of

Colorful sand

That is never

Quite able

To become

An intricate mandala

Before

The wind comes

Blowing it

Away

If I add

A days worth

Of tears

I can create

A simple

Kaleidoscope

So my ever

Shifting

Self

Can at least,

At times,

Become a moment

Of loveliness

For whoever

Takes the time

To look

At

Me.