The Spill

The mind overflows

merges , submerges,

holds up like a dam

And one day, escapes

trickling drop by drop

and then all at once

Gushing through a tiny pore

like a stream of thoughts

breaking free

into a puddle;

muddled

huddled

humming its way

into freedom of expression…

High on colours, sounds, lights

and life itself

Contained in a mere physical being-

the brain, that handles it with poise;

through nerves and transmitters

electrical and chemical gradients

Catering to its every tantrum.

The puddle picks up pace

and flows again

like a string of beads

or sand sifting through

palms of the hands

the mind absorbs, toys around

and lets go

of what was not meant for it.

of what it couldn’t assimilate.

of what it did not want to shelter.

The mind entangles

and then attempts to

free itself

from its own complication.

The mind knows not how to settle.

It questions its own existence

and slowly drifts into

space;

creating and recreating

its own niche.

This is where

it feels like home.