Jungle head


in moments when doing is too much asked from you to do
and all being is too much to be
What do you decide to do, listening to your thoughts run around free
so carefully

Twisted around a center it seems like your thoughts are one big dark shelter
(within your brain)
And running is too much to do
(because if you’d do you wouldn’t even know where to)
and laying is too much
and listening would hurt as it’s such
You don’t even know what to listen to,
Your thoughts seem to be there but most of all they’re haunting you

You danced them all of, laughed them all gone, carefully wrote them down, felt what’s mean to be felt and still

In the morning, in the light, alone or fulfilled with men at night,
your mind, all it can do is run around silently wild.

I cannot catch it
In the middle
and tell it where to stay
because it isn’t steady
I am not ready
and I feel so much
I’m a dreamer I can say
 
Sunday, 12th January 2020