I Can Only Make Rhymes When I’m Too Exasperated to Stray in Thought

I'm neurotic,
from head to toe.
If you observe,
it really shows.
it('ll) really show(s).
it may just show.

Eyes wide and milked, 
each gaze wreaks drought.
My temples throb,
as if with (they've?) gout.

Last night in bed
were springs of tears.
Today I quake 
to look in mirrors.

Last night I slept
with brain clenched tight,
and now it chokes
up droll delight(s).
  (a delight?)
  (my delight?)
with droll delight.

Half here half far
is bone from flesh, 
while inbetween
stale worries thresh.

Against thin nerves
like harpist thrums
bile courses through,
mockingly hums;

it makes me think
I can conceal
what bloodshot veins,
clown-nose reveal

to passers by
who may wonder 
if I'm in pain 
or just under

the weather, but
it's obvious
to few parties-
I'm in distress

so now you don't 
need to observe
to see what I'd 
like to (p)reserve;

I'm neurotic,
you clearly know.
Now how to pause
this mawkish show?

-Shaakya Vembar

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