Scattered Ashes

Give me a second,

to gather

up my brain.

It’s scattered

like ashes,

splattered

all over the place.

Kurt Cobain —

Filled with angst,

some leftover teenage rage.

I’ve got an uncanny ability

to always mistranslate.

I’ve lost my mind

so many times,

my thoughts just walk away;

flutter by

like butterflies,

I can’t seem to concentrate —

I missed my train of thought,

I’m high

and now I’m running late.

I’m deep in my mind,

and heading to another state

to regenerate

and generate

ideas to fill this empty space,

replace

the thoughts that

I lost along the way,

and at best

recover some,

so this trip isn’t in vain.