My mind is a filthy place.
It shifts from a dark, slow rhythm,
To making panting pushing bodies, taut muscles, distorted faces and grunts.
My mind is on drugs, on some dope.
it wakes with a mad suddenness,
runs in an insane frenzy,
And falls flat, into deep, difficult, unending slumber.
Taking violent shoves, screams and a million haikus to bring it back to life.
But it's beautiful when things get pretty.
An amazing canvas of colours, of experiences.
A board holding visions, new and old.
It's an ocean with waves running into each other, sparking.
My mind has a life, a heart and a voice,
Oh its voice is softer than cotton candy,
Sweeter than the aftertaste of the butterleaf.
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