Current Issue 2026

Confused Verses

My poems are confused lately,
like my thoughts:
wrapped up in upturned current events,
newspaper that stabs skin, 
breaks bones, bombs homes.

My poems are confused lately,
like my emotions:
yo-yo-ing between deep depression 
and active anxiety,
panic attacks that paralyze
and afternoons cocooned in quiet comforters.

My poems are confused lately,
like my room:
dirty clothing cast across the dusty carpet,
dresser drawers spilling their innards,
bookshelves buckling in the center,
battered books scattered all over the bed.

My poems are confused lately,
like my mind:
thoughts of goals I might not achieve,
memories of people–their smiles, their sneers,
long lists of tasks I need to get done,
brainwaves racing between them all.

My poems are confused lately,
like my journal:
scribbled sentences,
crossed out lines, 

pages torn in two,

can’t unravel the confusion,
can’t un-crack the words.