It’s an episode,
it happens at certain intervals,
the uncontrollable mind.
Labeled and shoved on a shelf
it sometimes falls shooting glass across every corner of a heart.
The goal is to keep it hidden, tucked behind other jars, other things,
Bottled up until it mutates and forces its way onto the chilled rocky floor. Of course it’s labeled,
according to them.
According to them that’s all it is,
a reoccurring accident needing control,
a mess needing the sweep of a broom and,
It’s believed to be better when in reality the bottle was their placebo,
in reality the mess is