Write the words down, they really matter
As they spill from my head and do clatter,
Down to the paper, of a journal I use,
To capture my thoughts and to peruse
All the words that are part of this kind
That only I hear, inside of my mind.
My mind is running away from me.
I think I need a pre frontal lobotomy.
Thoughts that are stuffed in every place,
Wedged in cracks or any empty space.
I need some time. Time to think
Or I may have to turn to drink.