This was written while I was listening to a lot of The Doors and reading Jim Morrison poetry a while back. It's about dwelling on that one thought that can transport your mind from a good space to a negative and unproductive one.
It doesn't make very much sense. But then again, neither did Jim Morrison and I love him anyway!
Repercussions swirl
That omen
That pinnacle
That gust of wind
The unpleasantries will inevitably rise
You're here: now it begins
I didn't see it, it's a metaphorical cringe
I'm waiting
I'm calm
But I'm hanging by one hinge.
Why?
Must things be lost?
Must they change?
Will I drown in myself?
Soaked to the bone
It's leverage.
Insignificance
Overwrought
An extreme sport
Or nothing of the sort?
What is the cost...
...of that one destructive thought?
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