Hydroxyzine
The quiet negotiator between my thoughts
Slipping into the conference room of my mind
Where every fear sits with its arms crossed
It doesn’t silence them
it dims the overhead lights
Asks the loudest ones to speak slower
As if clarity were a form of mercy
I feel it rearranging the furniture
In the back of my skull
Moving the panic chair two inches left
Tilting the mirror so I stop catching
My own reflection at the wrong angle
There’s a moment
Right after it dissolves
When my mind becomes a hallway
Lined with doors I’ve locked for years
And each one rattles softly
Not to escape
But to remind me they’re still there
Hydroxyzine
You don’t cure the storm
You just convince the thunder
To talk about its childhood
You slow the spinning gears
Let me watch the machinery
Without getting caught in it
Let me name the shadows
Without becoming one
And in that strange
Suspended quiet
I realize the truth I keep forgetting
My mind is not my enemy
Just a frightened animal
That finally stops pacing
When the world grows gentle