Swamped

I wanted to write about making Armenian bread ......
but
I'm swamped by a swell of all things lost.

The hum drum ordinariness of
the anchors
in my day
which used to keep me steady
although I didn't know it then
all yanked up.
So now
I drift loose
in unclear
waters.

At the very core
of me
snarled springs
ready to
snare
any passing
remark
and brand it
into my skin
hot
as shame.