Yesterday, I wrote a poem about my instrusive and difficult thoughts. I call them my sticky thoughts. Please have a read here:
They are like syrup
They have a strong make-up
They come as they please
They come with such an easeThey are my sticky thoughts
They come so often, univited
They are against me, all united
Even when I ask, they won’t leave
They are forever, I believeThey are my sticky thoughts
They are sticky as toffee
They work as surely as coffee
They are like a mental bomb
Their domain: ihateyou.comThey are my sticky thoughts
They break me
They mock me
They rape me
They haunt me
They shake
They curse me
They shape me
They tease meThey are my sticky thoughts
So annoyingly present once again
That I will hold on to them
With great care and love
I also asked ChatGPT to enchance my poem. You can read below what it produced. I must say I’m astonished how good a poet ChatGPT has become! I find its version a lot of better than mine. Of course, ChatGPT has a huge computational power and I am not a native English speaker, but still! Here’s the ChatGPT-enhanced version:
They pour like syrup, thick and slow,
Masking my mind in a heavy glow.
They come unbidden, they come with ease,
Slipping in like a ghostly breeze.They are my sticky thoughts.
They gather, stubborn, uninvited,
Against me, ruthless and united.
I beg them to go, but they only stay,
A chorus of echoes that won’t decay.They are my sticky thoughts.
Sticky like toffee, clinging tight,
Buzzing like coffee deep in the night.
A mental bomb, ticking inside,
Their domain: ihateyou.com worldwide.They are my sticky thoughts.
They break me,
Mock me,
Rape me,
Haunt me.They shake me,
Curse me,
Shape me,
Taunt me.They are my sticky thoughts.
So here they are, once again,
Annoyingly present, inside my brain.
And yet—perhaps—I’ll hold them near,
With careful hands, without the fear.