What'll Come

If there is a worth while after all, don't keep it a secret. There's a sort of something lying in the sulci of the mind, but what is it? It gives me troubles and woes trying to grasp onto reality and this'll get me a scolding. I think I'm doing right, but there's a sense of wrong doing that creeps in the furnace. It turns on and feels cold at first and I wonder if it's even working since I've a set 72 degree temperature. The roar of its ignition is frightening and I know it's preparing only for something better for me. A sense of warmth, ease and comfort. Mmm, it's fantastic. Let it come. I want it around me and on me and I want to be smothered in it. But it's scares me. It pounds my forehead against the black surface of a coffee table, shouting to do and be and cut the shit out. I've also been told to man up...I don't what that means. I've also been told I don't like to be the leader. These he said she saids are all so overwhelming and it only takes a significant little moment in time to flip these notions I hold so dear upside down. These ideas are all so vivid among the masses. I know it's too much and too bold for too many. It keeps love out and love is too important. So I think I just want to stop. I really want to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Topple over these thoughts. Thoughts. Thoughts. I'm building them higher and higher in the cupboards like mother's pots. Pots. Pots. I smoke too much.