I have no idea what I was doing with this poem. It was kind of inspired off an abstract drawing I made. 

It’s growing in my head

But I push it aside like it’s dead

It keeps nagging and piling up

I can’t tell if it’s good or bad

Until it’s too strong to ignore

And it’s too late to get rid of

By then there isn’t​ much to do

 Except wait until it finally goes

But it can always come back like a recurring fungus.