The Thought Vehicle

These thoughts

These thoughts

They keep on fleeting

They flow from my head

To my arm

To my hand and my fingers

To my pen

They activate the ink

and spill out onto the paper

But how can they flee if there's nothing at the starting line?

Or when the starting line is fueled from the past thoughts?

Yet I can't find the paper they were spilled upon

How do I keep that fuel that rolls that fire?

All these questions

And the answers

They get the fuel gelling

But I know that that thought fuel,

as it passes from the head to the paper,

It travels through my veins

And those chemicals are at their stations

The fuel flicks their wicks

as it passes by

They ignite the chemicals in their canisters

The chemicals needed for inspiration and motivation

Chemicals called endorphins and serotonin

In which they travel back to my head

Into that starting line

And spark that ignition switch

Twenty-two questions

If only there were twenty-two answers

But all I can seem to find

are twenty-two catches

Some may call them excuses