No Title (a title can be so dense, there's no need for further elaboration)

Words are powerful, illuminative, illustrative
they roll off my brain like a press....
A week to the day
and you still haven't given into reason
you're still hanging on to
dissolved truths
and a mean bucket of lies
you were sold at the traveling side show
the barter with his arm in a sling
and the mistress that just held on too long
the trade
dark secret and revealing
glossy hair in the harsh irridescent,
flourescent lamplight
the shake
the organ sings in the background
the spinning tea cups file into a blur
round and round
seasick and nauseous
the serum, the medicine
sold by the ounce
proven to take your fears away
that's until it kicks in and you want out
it's too late....hours of duress.
I'm feeling better now
strictly mine
strict time.
hours later and my watch has mysteriously stopped
you've gone
now I've got it right
so right
I'm on to something big
don't ask what it is
it's that big
I can only sense it
the beauty of hindered sight
It might be orange
It might be the end
It may just be beginning
it's coming this way
and its good
It won't be the first
certainly won't be the last
and we'll be the better for it
I passed through a charming small town today
so boho
in the mountains; the blue ridge mountains
appalachia
the true blue hung on my every last word
and I'm trying to find a way out of this free thought line
here goes
I've tried
we've tried
we're trying
and it might be good enough
like a walk down those hand laid streets
people laugh and smoke
we traipse on by
to my yellow padded lift ticket into the clouds

Hey, did you ever create the ending before the beginning?