Fighting with Genie

via Daily Prompt: Genie

The idea forms quietly, building, gaining texture and pops out as if it belongs.

It presses me, guides me, it causes me to sit and consider it, newly formed.

The idea started as a gaseous fog, now demanding words.

There are times, when I wish I could put the idea back in the bottle, but it refuses now.

The idea has become real, whether I like it or not.