The ******* roots of this thing are unbelievable.
They grow right into the crux of my inner most cognition.
Where the gears and bolts and pipes
and all the unseen mechanics of my little mind reside.
They grow inside and through and around.
They clog gears,
burst pipes,
loosen bolts.
I have weeds in my mind,
the kind that suffocate their host.
A fiery invasive species,
the ones that respect only fire and pesticides.

A train leaves a station with a speed of 60mph
It accelerates to above the speedometer's capability.

Trailing through,
a path of flames scorching
innocent tinder.

The conductor peaks in the mirror
and there is no sight
of damage;
only clear paths.

Did the train go off tracks as it sped?
Only he can know when it halts.

My dreams elude my reach.
Do these illusions delude or lead?
A ruse or a path unseen?
With hidden meaning or does my soul randomly seek
from cognition's depth to spirit's peak
a time and space where I believe
that my world and life will be complete.