What Will It Take?

At parties I sit quiet and calculate my words

I avoid the eyes of guys and stare at my phone. 

After all that hiding, 

dissatisfaction feels like heartburn, 

like I’m playing a game with a dying controller. 

I cry,

I rage, 

I can’t sleep, 

all in vain.  

The mirror spits out the same image every morning. 

Deep sighs don’t make progress. 

and brooding in my bedroom 

doesn’t amount to action.

Must lightning strike before I wake up? 

The to-do list for my brain

is getting longer everyday 

There’s always another failing to fix.      

But how 

do I reorganize 

my mind?