When you read this, don't stop. Feel like the words are tumbling and rolling down a hill.

Rings and strings and hoards of things are cluttered up inside my brain;
I cannot think, I cannot see for rings and strings are crowding me;
they seem to swirl and preen and purl against my skin, against my world;
I cannot think, I cannot breathe for strings and things are strang'ling me;
they push and pull at twisted thoughts and curl and twist in horrid knots;
I want to end, I want to kill, but strings and rings defy my will;
entang'ling me, enstrang'ling me, these horrid strings are killing me;
I cannot run, I cannot hide from rings and strings that wind inside.