Zen Without Peace

The mixed state is harsh, confusing, 
A bane on my stability. 
Part of me is sad, another part angry, 
Two sides of the same hurt 
Bleeding from a common source.  
The mind races through jumbled thoughts, 
Frantic depression, zen without peace. 
Irritation sets in, the way a partly cloudy day 
With intermittent sun tortures the skin, 
Alternating randomly, unpredictable, 
A constant annoyance. 
If the weather can't decide how to feel, 
You can't expect the spirit to either.