I am shaken.

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 &&&&????