errant mind
my thoughts are incomplete.
yes, all of them.
a room full of politicians.
scarcely a word said,
before everyone erupts,
yelling irrelevant points,
so sure of their importance.
multiple trains on convoluted tracks,
crashes are imminent,
compartments overturned,
survivors spilling out of windows.
an incessant pounding
as chisel-wielding folk
sculpt the unyielding bone of my skull.
even as i write,
the people in my brain speak,
natter on about themselves,
the fears they embody,
the stories they know,
until i am fit to burst.
my head swelling cartoonishly,
unable to contain the inflow
of words, just meaningless words
that stream in without pause
and where is the punctuation
the commas fullstops
semicolons separation into neat lines
verses paragraphs someone cage my
brainstorm it is wrecking the land of the living and shaking awake the land of the dead for thoughts i had long buried crawl out of their places
liquid flows out of my every orifice
thick like molasses black like ink
coagulating into words
faithless words
that bend to my will far too easily
and when i am asked i say
i’m fine.