Creation's Madness

A thousand words, thoughts, all rush
with mad screaming, pleading, begging,
howling, whispering noise at the center
of his mind in a single instant and he cannot
keep up, cannot record them fast enough
to remain grounded. Twenty years ago
she warned him, told him if he did not
accept her - meds, ideas, treatments, help -
told it would end this way. That this was, is,
the insanity that awaited him. Proven a Quack
he laughed and followed his own life; she,
the others after, they could piss off. Now,
he hears their chuckling behind the onslaught
of thought and shrugs uncaring any longer -
if this is madness, it is good;

he is creating now.

Through it the botox fades and today
no circuits fire their program
into his brain - deep brain
unstimulated - he will leave this place
soon.

_(01-01-2010)