Running
Set me spinning,
and I won't stop.
Like a whirlpool next to a ford,
with water pouring though
and out at a constant rate.
Sensation filling me and going nowhere.
Or like a planet,
where there is no equal and opposite force
to counter me,
and I just keep turning until you touch me
like a million meteorites
or a black hole
or a sun,
and slow me down
speed me up
or drive me the other way around.
Or like the movement of pistons.
I'm up and down and spinning the wheels.
Forces playing me and pushing me pulling me
And will it stop when I'm cured?
Will I spare a thought to dizzying spirals,
or crators in the Earth,
when I've run out of fuel for my obsessions?
Will I be calm,
ordered,
composed,
and a statue of my former self?