When ideas come
They vibrate in my skull
Up from my brain
They leave a trail of energy
To my eye sockets and back,
There isn’t enough space for them to all escape.
So behind brain and into the throat.
They sit and tickle, for the blink of an eye,
And it has taken years, a lifetime,
To master silence…
Sort of…
I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty View more posts
SickyBeat