If I could write out the world

I would start with a pen

And stream out my thoughts

Flowing like water

Thick like blood

In murky waves of my subconscious

Spiraling down into a pool of black

That attaches to white in a single word

One that stretches out with inky claws

Scratching under the surface, so deep

Embedding itself into my mind

The impetus of a single idea

A disease that spreads like raving mad

But first touches so gently

One hardly knows the difference

Between a coherent feeling

And an insane state of being

It stirs my pen and frees my soul

But also chains it to another:

Inspiration, so forceful and condemning

To my thoughts in my subconscious,

Which began with a single idea

Flowing like water

And thick like blood

In my attempt to write out the world