The Crack In The Glass
Everyday is just a burden to shoulder.
New data,
more problems,
a seemingly insurmountable mess.
There is so much disorder
that the simple task of carrying
bleeds pain into my shoulder.

Everyday brings a new workload, new stress.
More exhaustion,
new worries,
but the same mess.
Distraction isn't even a viable way to contest
as the stress seeps into every waking moment
leaving only distress.

Everyday the end slips a bit farther out of grasp.
Moving farther and farther each morning,
until it's out of sight.
It's only then that the dormant anxiety rises.
Compressing as the reality floods over,
forming boulders which only serve to suppress.

Its then, as you lay unable to act,
it all begins to compact.
panic, they all collect
traveling slowly through your body.
Your head,
your torso,
your legs.
Until finally you hear the sound
of the crack in the glass.
© Robert Taylor