Fast Track

The rain crawled inside my skin,
pebbles appeared on the forearm,
distress was the reward.

The rain crawled, crawled,
head was like an out-of-control train
a disaster lurched at every bend.

Concentration was lost in the wind
as a child dreams of summer vacation,
the desk had had a tornado.

Mouth spits forth a conversation, 
out of controlled thoughts run on into the air
visiting the world.

On the brink of doing harm,
all that was to be made-
the decision.

A racing mind has caused the end.

Copyright Denise A White