TumbleDweeeb

The Fuzzy-Headed X’s
By: Emmitt Owens
[A Whimsy Poem Inspired by my own ADHD]
(Index #12022025)

In the Land-of-Wait-What-Was-I-Doing-Again,
Lived a Fuzzy-Head X (they’ve forgotten since when).
Each morning they wake with their goals burning bright:
“Today I’ll stay focused! I’ll get it all right!”

They’ll start buttering toast—
but the toaster looks dusty—
so, they search for a cloth—
but the cloth is too crusty—
so, they reach for a sponge—
but the sponge looks all soggy—
so, they wander outside—
and get lost petting doggies—
and the toast? Well, the toaster still waits for that bread,
while a thought floats away from each Fuzzy X head.

Their minds are like dandelion fluff in the breeze—
one puff! and their plans drift with whimsical ease.
They leave little earthquakes of half-finished things:
a scarf that stops short, a doorbell with no dings,
a letter half-written, a song with one note,
and somewhere… they’re certain… some—maybe just one—lost unbuttered toast!

A book opened once,
a kite stuck in a tree,
a fridge they started sorting,
alpha—beti—cally—
(they got through the A’s! then forgot about B’s,
so now butter lives next to the broccoli and cheese next to the Z’s).
They’ll say, “I’m just mixing new pie dough, you’ll see!”
—oh look, a ukulele!
—oh wow, a lost key!
—oh… a bluejay!
floating free on the breeze!

“Now what was I… wasn’t I… doing right here?”
and the thought that they had simply poofed — disappeared!

Sometimes they get huffy—frustrated and pouty:
“Why is my brain foggy? Why’s it so cloudy?”
They try planners and timers and notebooks galore,
but they vanish in seconds—a shelf? Or a drawer?

Yet everyone loves the Fuzzy X crew,
for their hearts shine brightly through muddles they brew.
They’ll forget your birthday—
but surprise you with flowers
Then they wander past gardens
and lose track of hours.

And the truth?

(Whispered soft so no thought slips away):
Their minds are a journey—
they loop, curve, and sway.
Focus is tricky—attention’s a dance—
but joy grows in tangles when given a chance.

So here’s to the X’s,
heads fuzzy and kind,
with wild blooming gardens
inside of their minds.

They may lose their place,
but they’ll always find wonder—
and that’s quite a talent
we often call… 
… uh—wait—was that thunder?!