My mind is a living document,
marching on paper legs,
My mind is a feeding document, parasitic,
bloated hungry, writes over its own mistakes,
slops new ideas on top of old,
past thoughts bleeding between present ones.
My mind is a breathing document,
gasping for air,
strains its leash.
This brittle body cover can’t hold it down.
My mind is a walking document, no, a running document,
tears ahead of hands,
rips through pride and pants.
Its inky prints stain you. My mouth says sorry.
This mind is a talking document,
tells me sour endings it promises will unfold.
Help me keep its wet, jaw pages tight shut.
There’s a black blob butterfly inside.
This mind is a laughing document,
cackling all night.
How can I sleep?
I’m wide eyed beside you.
Your mind is in a dream hammock
resting over your head.
It returns to your brain as you wake.
I wrestle with mine ‘til it knocks me out cold.