My mind’s a 24/7 newsroom,
breaking panic, coming soon.
Headlines read, You messed up again!
It’s both the anchor and the weatherman.

The forecast says cloudy with a chance of doubt,
with scattered thoughts all hanging out.
Confidence called, saying, “Can’t today.”
Overthinking’s working overtime anyway.

Yes, my brain’s a browser, twelve tabs wide,
one plays music I can’t find.
Another’s buffering future fears,
rest just navigate through unpaid arrears.

And that’s when she walks in.
All polite, dramatic, and oddly kind;
calls herself Lady Maybe,
the queen of the restless mind.

She alters my calm in her signature style,
says, “Let’s worry together, just a while…?”
Pours old regrets in porcelain cups,
and sighs, “Sweet memories, bottoms up.”

She sings while scrolling through my head,
reviving ancient things I thought were dead.
Utters, “Peace is nice, but slightly bland,
try chaos; made fresh, by hand.”

My thoughts run marathons indoors,
collecting medals for “what if” wars.
Even my quiet has commitment issues,
Folding itself like unused tissues.

I count my breaths, they count me back.
We both lose track…imagine that!
I smile at the mess. What else to do?
My mind’s a maze that loves the view.

- Neha Sharma