A mind not lost in itself, seems completely absurd. A mind where cognition goes unfiltered; pouring forth thought. The antithesis of my juncture where thoughts adhere like molasses.
My growth under its custody; playing washed out reruns of my life; seldom intriguing or new. Thinking slows to a lull; muffled thoughts syrupped in glue.
Dictatorship. Totalitarianism. My mind overthrown by the tyranny that is me. Notions suffocated; browbeaten into silence by my alterity.
Oh, what I would give to feel free. Liberate myself from the quills that jolt through my auricles, perforating the order, loitering wounds in pain.
To be disengaged from introspection. To finally close the lexicon that keeps the words arrested in my mind. To play the symphony that I hear, would be surreal.
10/1/13
YOU ARE READING
Until then
PoetryI live with a mathematical, logical mind, but tend to be immersed in emotion. The imbalance can both prosper and hinder me. with love, b 1987-until then...
