My incoherent rantings upon this white, tainted by my virulent thoughts expelling out. I leap at echoes of what may have been cognitively expelled but never given true form.
"I just lingered my mind in the air like a net catching stray speculations that were never musing,
I never understood why infuriated wording was not given form, why I lingered outside my window like a peeping tom. Waiting for those Drifting inconsolable lost thoughts never given form.
Some were so sullen a tear would edge closer to my yearning of falling but then I'd catch and devour it. Swallowing that sorrow to feel that pain needed to ink better vocabulary then I had penned before.
"I hear things in the night, feverish dreams of inscribing,
I understand my conclusion of what I am spilling in irrational contemplations, that wield meaning of what should lucidly be realized within my words. But my ink is waved upon as to complex in thought.
"I am a man with no water yet I am drowning,
Can I be enthusiastic in my wonderings of captured words, expelled but never used. I hoard them within me, so others may not take what I thought what I took from the breeze. I think I'm cognitive, but others think I'm rabid in inducing.