I'm Anti-Clutter

This one was an interesting project. There's parts that I really like, and some not so much. But that came with the territory; I had the idea to sit down and write something with no plan, no pre-concieved ideas in my head. I sat down and closed my eyes, and just started writing whatever came out. Slightly ironic that it begins with "there is nothing to say." As lines followed lines, it began to take shape into the final product. While there was no original theme or subject in mind, I can now apply it to moments in my life. I don't recommend this approach to writing, in fact I almost always think of theme first and then write. But it was a fun process, and though a little nonsensical, I still like it.

There is nothing to say.
and I want it that way.
It ends. It fades.
It churns, catches fire, and drowns all the same.
I gave it a name.
I gave it a terrible name.
Was it without reason? This terrible name?
Because as it was, it existed.
As it is, it remains.
Meaning it stays dead, not plays dead.
So being that I named it, and my own lips phrased it,
had I any effect on the impending wreck?
And if so was it direct,
or of the side-variety?
Which is to say is it the name that ends it,
or another's propriety?
Nonetheless, it was I who named it,
labeled, and framed it.
But would it have ended the same,
were it without a name?
It isn't I who would know.
Which just goes to show,
that regardless of a name
the control existed not on this plane.
It's a fruitless debate.
It ended name, no name, fate, no fate.
There is nothing to say.
But I spoke anyway.