The Contingency Plan

I'm frustrated and my thoughts are dominating me. They start off minute, making connections and small streets but in no time they are super cities with bustling highways, minority groups, art history and lights, wanting to burst out of my head, demanding action.
And I can feel them coming on. I try to ignore their actions, swallow my words, make things smaller than they really are, but my expressive face betrays me and in no time I'm yelling or crying to the thought that he's a selfish lover and absent-minded partner.
And I want to run or dance or move so fast that these thoughts loose traction, fall out of my ears, seep through my pores and are cried out of my ducts, but then realise it's hard enough to sit comfortably, let alone walk and so my days are filled with myself and there is no escape.
And I so badly want to surrender, desperate to loose myself but there is nothing. So I weep until I can't see, until the air becomes thick and I fall into the arms of sleep.