I am shaken, I am stirred

my thoughts are violently riddled

by the wind that’s in between my ears

sometimes people can hear a bit of that;

wind escaping through my ears

they hear a high-pitched whistling

and ask, “did you say something?”

I did not, yet my head is racing from

one wall of the room to the other

zinging sounds pass peoples ears

missing them

and they? evading them.

I always hope

if they get hit

they speak

I don’t know how to make it stop

I can make it stop by finally listening to it.

Following its patterns across the room,

across my head

scribbling down the notes on a piece of paper,

forming something similar to a sentence,

maybe a word?

maybe something like a route an ambulance follows through the streets?

but not a melody

please, please, please

please, don’t call it a melody because it invokes a feeling of harmony

I cannot relate to yet

it’s still just whistling,

something that makes it harder to fall asleep

something that makes me feel ill

it still flings around the room,

either I will listen or
someone will catch it for me &&&&????