Lost lines

So many lines
I've lost and let go
in my mind.
Maybe they weren't meant for me to find
but I search and reach for the remnants
of something that could've been
 real remarkable
or absolute shit.
Guess I just gotta forget
and commit to capturing
the current
currently cascading..
flowing
forever,
streaming through the soul
all knowing,
 glowing
invading and sedating my skull
no signs of slowing
but fading fast..
no foundation found around here
sometimes it's deemed
dark and dreary,
sometimes seems to never be seen
so clearly,
lacking focus
void of form
must be expressed excessively
less I get lost,
 led further astray
withered away
within the storm swarming
the space behind these eyes
day after day..

Worried I won't find the words
when my mind wanders..
still so fixated on the flow
 and fearful of losing it
if I lose control
 but as long as I show up
 to the pages with a pen
in my hand
 I can then begin to understand
it never ends or slows down,
it only arranges itself
accordingly..
sporadically
resetting reality
regularly
resisting routines
but noticing a fondness for
a certain style of syllable streaming,
systemless
lawless
rid of rules
no set structure or script to stick to
nothing to follow
except the flow itself
whenever it likes to show itself
but I've learned you should never
force it to expose itself
or even insist you're intent on
invoking it yourself
as it exists independently of you
though its expressed through you,
coming to be because of you,
you're not the master
perhaps not the puppet either
cause in some sense
you are it
if you own up to it
and stay open to it
and observe the process
even though periods of
complete unproductivity
to see if your capable of harnessing
that creative force
found filling the cosmos..