The Buzz

This inexplicable irritability,

like the buzzing of the hornets’ nest,

has me searching random cabinets and surfing random sites

in the hope of finding the source of

those loud whispers that can’t be shushed.

Contorting to reach,

Struggling to define,

the itch that can’t be scratched.

The thirst that can’t be quenched.

And regrets that can’t be unearned.

Yesterday that can’t be relived.

And a tomorrow that won’t be different.

I don’t want this going on.

I don’t want this to ever stop.

I want it to feel different.

I want it to be different.

But the same. I want this life to surprise me.

But remain.