Unfolding TBD

My mood is indescribable. Tightly folded in the bottom drawer of a little girl's vanity. A downspout of misguided rain freezing overnight. A complicated mountain folded, its peak sheltered by sensitivity and fog. Its hardened crust evaporating into sadness. My desolation comforted by his imaginary love. Pain is romanticized inside my mind. Love and delusion reflected in a streak-free mirror. Literary connections found in pulsating  isolation love me back. I am disconnected from the norm. I admire the faithful but I only sleep with questions. Relieving cuts pour bleeding onto my canvas blank. I offer explanations unintelligibly through matte abstracting art. I am complexly overwhelmed by simple movement and my mascara smears like a passionate whore. My legs spread wide, knees bent, my aged hips crack with temporary satiation. Heavy sighs are my aphrodisiac into oblivion. The warmth of the sun on my face is my mother. Nature hugs me with its bark folding into rings. Gasping with emotion, my eyelids bow at the thought of him. Moved to tears when Mozart's final notes appear tangible. A grin too wide and too toothy silently churns my stomach to the tone of laughing clowns. Names spelled wrong hanging on the air make me dizzy. Contradicting comfort found in metaphors and algebra. Pages folded into triangles increase my focus. Abhorrent shock at mass blindness ruminates into psychosis. Despair dropping into a bucket of mud in my chest when I think of my image of love. Despondency covers my shoulders, my grandmother's shawl, when the chill of  loneliness arises. Inner epiphanies debate over desire and reality. I stand still and stuck from fear, my existential ability questionable. Independence challenges my need. I know my bravery exists, but it is tucked between the folded linens. And I hate to disrupt the familiar aroma. And so, I keep the closet closed.