Cluttered thinking

When I write, I write what my mind sees

vignette's of lovers, pained and pleasured and the 

the life and death of a serial killer

But now my mind is cluttered

too many stories, too many windows 

words in my head that call me to write

That when I type my pages,

they get lost by what they see

seeing into the windows, worlds and words 

The lives of the people I imagine

the conversations, the coffee houses

the backs of vans with their latest prey

I stutter in my writing because the 

conversations come too fast and my mind

can't keep up with what I see

When I write, I write what my mind sees

like a movie camera, capturing the scene

that did not happen in reality, only in the fantasy

of my minds eye