Quirks and Perks

This mind is a funny thing,

churning and spitting out one idea after the next.

Almost automatically,

like it hardly reflects.

Never fitting in,

always rejected somewhere.

Necks turn,

heads rise.

Tinkering one moment.

Twiddling fingers the next.

Fidgety, always trying to fix things,

to invent something new.

Eyes darting,

never meeting the gaze of another unless pressed for battle.

Skittering away.

It seems meek, mild even

but it is not timid.

For it is ferocious,

a beast waiting in the dark,

but tickled pink at the slightest idea of a challenge.

Should you challenge it to create something?

Done.

Should you will it to do battle?

Say it complete.

All of it. All of it is due.

But if you shutter to imagine,

that if you ever ever put restrictions and restrains on which it can paint,

it will die out in a moment like a flame deprived of oxygen.

Left listless and lying in a dazed wake.

Should you give unclear instructions,

so open and obtuse.

It'd shudder to finish a thing,

until every littlest question remarked.

So without further adieu,

please welcome the brain of blue

The brain of bleakness, the brain of sorrow.

The brain of sinister renew.

It knows fear, but it respects it.

It knows anger, but it doesn't reject it.

It knows flight, but fight is the first objection.

Welcome.

Welcome all to the sinister spinstress anew.