I’m spinning plates
on trembling fingers,
balancing deadlines,
dreams, and disasters—
each one whispering
don’t drop me.

There’s no rhythm to this chaos,
only the panic of keeping pace.
I’ve become
a calendar in human form,
every square filled
with someone else’s need.

My mind splits—
fragments fighting
for top priority.
I blink and forget
where I am,
what I was doing,
who I’m supposed to be next.

I’m stretched so thin
you can see the panic
bleeding through.
Still…I smile,
because there’s no time
to fall apart.

Not when everything
would crash with me.