by Cheri Peters
Whose acrobatics symbolize my sanity,
or lack thereof.
Scampering through trees
like thoughts fly through my head.
Ideas tumble, and jumble about
in a frenzied fury
like furry backyard gymnasts.
***
Words, the same words
loop through my head.
Like squirrels on an exercise wheel
spinning out distorted words
that twist the truth.
Contorted lies that resemble
little squirrel bodies
hanging and swinging,
grasping as they dangle
off the end of a branch
with nothing but air beneath them.
***
My mind twirls in midair
as the internal negativity
ricochets through my brain.
How much credence
should I give to the words of others?
Callous comments
bloated with self-importance
but burrowed deeply.
Their whispers bite at my brain
like rabid, noxious squirrels
rashly uttering
reckless, careless words
meant to poison my soul
and slash at my heart
with their razor sharp claws.
***
I seize the branch of sanity
remembering to breathe in and breathe out
as I search among the detritus
in the patched-up squirrel’s nest
of my brain.
I summon the weapon of discernment
and feel it machete through the sordid swamp
of venomous words
designed to sabotage
my sense of self.
***
Slowly, slowly,
squirrely chatter forms positive thoughts.
Self-validation begins to leap
from synapse to synapse,
zig-zagging through the branches of my brain
as neuroelectric words of comfort
course through my body.
***
I hear and hoard,
the calming, soothing words
as if they were acorns
that I can bury deep
in the garden of my heart.
Intentionally planting seeds for next time
when the toxic squirrel relatives
unexpectedly drop by
to pillage and plunder my psyche.
***
Maybe by then
the words that carousel in my brain
will be like carefree, merry little squirrels
frolicking around and around the trunks of trees
playing a wholesome game of tag,
as they romp through the lush garden
I planted a season ago.
