I can't seem to clear my head.
Thoughts horde and clash in civil rivalry within the confines of my skull,
Contradictory to the draught whirlwinds of dust that travel the vacant attics of my inspiration. 
The world won't pause for me like it does for the people in the movies. 
I can’t turn it off and on again to get it to work properly. 
They’re screaming, you’re screaming, I'm screaming. My voices are perpetually hoarse. 

I’ll focus on what's simple.

Here's a list of some of my favorite things:

The color yellow
The sound of piano keys
The fantastical luster of stars
The strength of a gust of wind
Earth's natural green
The soft fading of light
The ethereal authority of owls
The delicate scratch of the turning of a page
The crooked twig at the end of a branch, that bears the weight of the world as white speckles of frozen stardust cascades down and covers us in a sheath of silent serenity.