Shift

A sensitive nerve tweaked

by talk of weakness and failings,

then a subtle shift inside.

The poetry changes,

as I am left without a script,

agenda skewed,

lodged on a new plane of thought,

unfamiliar.

Tried to glean the last wind of thought

that passed through,

but to no avail.

Here, there is no

map,

and feelings last forever.

Nothing more to say 
on such a disorienting day.