Thoughts ~

I usually just sit,

And wait.

Seeking the ideas,

New, and fresh,

Steadily growing,

Silently breaking.

Waiting for these

Thoughts of gooey,

Pumping, living hearts,

To enter me.

I wait for them to come.

Enter-

The process

Is warm.

As these hearts flip,

They spin and twist,

Evolving with grayness,

That they gain in a

Slimy process.

Hearts in grayish globs,

Now enter me.

My physical body.

I can’t think well,

When I see a sky of madness.

Sometimes demons

Tear and scratch,

At my door.

And somehow they break through it.

I can’t sit,

And wait anymore

Contentedly.

For the demons,

Begin their work.

First they take brushes,

And begin to paint.

Their interesting choice-

A black sky.

Then the effects.

A baby screams,

While a mother ignores the child.

A daddy tries,

And struggles,

To begin an engine.

To top their fun-

These demons,

Add an enormous, clanking

Train to the mess.

None of it makes any sense!

The grayish hearts,

Stop beating.

Like now,

I stop my waiting.