So-
It turns out that
I’m a prisoner of the white lights
in my mind.
It’s like my mind is covered in
lazy scabs.
Sometimes the wind whips
across the Great Plains
of my medulla oblongata.
Blow, wind, blow-
full of cold
rain and snow.
My thoughts are fleeting
like skittish coyotes,
trotting across the
information highway
in the early hours of the morning.
It’s almost like
gypsies steal my cognition
before the cogs even start
to turn.
Imagine that-
little mind gypsies.
I’m beginning to feel like
a recluse,
spending all my time
searching for my sanity.
Oh well
thoughts are
overrated anyways.
