Tell Me

Some people draw how they feel.
Others write about them.
But what does one do
When nothing makes sense?
When thought after thought,
Realization upon realization,
And more emotions than a whole cup could hold,
Fill your brain,
And crowd your cranium,
Mixing and mingling with one another,
Inside of you,
All at once.

Tell me.
Tell me what I should do.
Should I sit in a corner, alone
Letting my insides take over,
Pondering and mulling over
These jumbled thoughts,
Resulting in nothing but my own defeat?

Tell me.
Tell me what I should do.
Should I grab a pen,
And furiously let my hand take its course,
Not caring about the rules,
Resulting in nothing but scribbled lines?

Tell me.
Tell me what I should do.
Should I write a novel,
Not stopping for breaks,
Even though my arm wants to fall off,
Writing anything and everything that comes to mind,
Resulting in nothing but broken grammar and misspellings?

Tell me.
Tell me what I should do.
Should I hide it all?
Fake it all,
Like I'm fine,
Like my thoughts aren't killing me?
Should I do this?
Even though it doesn't result in anything but my own end?