Death of an Idea by Kaitlyn Cox
There I go in excess Or there goes my excess inwards No–my innards outward Sizzling into death like duds on 4th of July Kiss goodbye my creatives Synapse shut down Lights flicker off for the evening Can I trust myself to return for duty tomorrow? There goes my excess Paint splatter and ink stains I can’t hold on to a feeling too long Artistry means excess is essential Only when I let the excess die inside this chest, breathe it through my nostrils and hold till the idea suffocates does it become just that Extra Excess Existential Crisis Exo-Skeletal remains calloused and mummified around golden light that once called itself inspiration I try my best to fertilize ideas so they don’t decay inside A green thumb can be learned apparently There I go, head first in excess Ideas never die They quickly find a resting spot inside from which to eat raw pieces of you One pulsating fingertip at a time Vibrating to create Yet remain painfully still Frostbitten reminders that you have talent
18