Seize and Confuse

A poem about Epilepsy

Like a creeping vine,
intent on smothering.
Hazy moments filled
with fog, sweep in.
clouding the senses.
Suddenly like a swarm
of angry bees,
trapped in a jar.
Not knowing which
way is up, or which
way is down.
Deceptive sounds.
What is said,
is not what is heard.
Unreliable words fall.
Nonsensical ramblings
depart my lips.
The seizure of my mind
is inevitable.