← All poemsEveryone else just thinks.
I have to chase my thoughts
through seventeen rooms
before I can sit down with one.
By the time I catch it
I have forgotten
what I needed it for.
They say: have you tried
making a list?
They say: have you tried
being organised?
I have tried
being organised
the way a river
tries to be a road.
There is a pill.
I am waiting for the pill.
I have been waiting
since before I knew
the word for what I was.
In the meantime
I create everything I have
from what spills out
between the cracks —
the music, the images,
the words at 3am,
the entire world I built
while everyone else
was sleeping straight.
I am still waiting.
I am still creating.
These two things
are not separate.