So many things rush doggedly together within me

I am not afraid yet there is the acrid taste of fear

swirling in my too-dry mouth and choking off my air

Is this anxiety or just discomfort at the status quo,

with how up-in-the-air everything is.

They say everything must fly up at some time,

before descending in some semblance of order…

Well, how long must these things fly up and stay up

before they assemble themselves and calm my soul down?