When nothing’s really wrong

When nothing’s really wrong
But nothing’s really right.
Pounding head and burning eyes.
Am I happy?
Will I cry?
Or is it just a sneeze?

My words sit uneasily
Within my heart and head.
But, where can they go instead?
Once expressed,
Carefully tread,
Too much, too much for me.

A voice within my fingers
Inside creates a song.
I say farewell these words, so long.
A thought ineffable,
Nothing’s wrong.
But then, nothing’s really right.

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