Momentous

There's something that needs to take form: words, ideas which will help me understand.
Ideas unformed have started creeping about furtively in the recesses-
all the experiences which, collectively, decide who I am, how I'll choose.
I pick at my nail and wait for cohesion.
Taking a sip of my drink, I remember a party for which I need to RSVP.
The phone rings, but I ignore it. The person then tries my cell phone.
I ignore that too. Someone knocks on my door,
and the musing that had started to ascend the stairs
from the basement of my consciousness loses its momentum.
The expression of unsaid things slips back into the shadows of dust, and the moment passes.