Dead

I collect thoughts like pebbles.  
They rest in my head.  
They lay dormant.  
Gathering dusty hallucinations;  
doubt, fear & procrastination.  
I carry them in my skull,  
a familiar comfort.  
Imposters in my mind;  
trying to reside triumphant.  
All rational thoughts have been overtaken;  
these sentiments will not be shaken.  
Thoughts that long to be fed.  
I wish they would just quit with their;  
'I'd rather be...'