as if i really care
when someone i don’t know
and don’t give a shit about
asks
if i have self respect
i spend about this much time
thinking of an answer

when someone i don’t know
and don’t give a shit about
asks
if i have self respect
i spend about this much time
thinking of an answer
i feel this emotion
suppressed for so long
like a seed pressing
against the ground
holding it down
raising my head
above the dirt
the sun melts me
it swells up inside
pounding on my sides
looking for the way out
it pushes at me
tearing me inside out
this emotion
i hide
this emotion
i tempt
breathes into me
as the sun goes down
eventually
so will
this
i hear the water dripping
behind me
the mist is so thick
it makes
ringlets that
fall on to the branches
and the leaves
a symphony of drips
surround me
every so often
there is the drip on a metal pipe
ping
ping
then a drip on the canvas
thwack
thwack
i am surrounded
everything is melting
perspiring into the mist
the slosh of a tire
rolling through the water
the ramble of the creek
the trickle down a drain pipe
drenching me in their
deluge
i sink into the water
i slip into the sea
floating against the tide
i fade into the night
the mist has
consumed me
i look at it blankly
wondering what to do
i have to do
something
so
i
sit
and
look
blankly
wondering
what to do
i blush
i smile
i chuckle to myself
sometimes it’s
the littlest of things
that can make your
day
i walked in circles
then i walked
a straight line
then i walked
in circles again
always thinking
i’m walking
somewhere
in my head i fell off months ago
no celebration no applause
just a slight humiliation
as i picked my self up
and walked out the door
my mind keeps the place warm for me
there’s even a roaring fire
complete with lighter fluid and marshmallows
the scars are healing nicely
and the gash is almost gone
in spite of what i think of myself
myself has a whole other agenda
lined up presently
to extinguish any fires
i may start
my head
hard as rock
sometimes as
dumb as one too
never fails to amuse me
in my greatest times of agony
the next day
it is very obvious
that i am
not
25 yrs younger
and although
i can still fall
with the
grace
wit
and
style
of one 25 yrs
my junior
the pain is
definitely
all mine
starring up at the sky
i can’t really remember
but can feel it
the touch of your
hand touching mine
your breath dripping
down the back of my neck
your eyes starring into mine
trying to remember all this
i close my self and feel it once again
feel it all
one more time
even the spell checker does me no good
i will inevitably get the right spelling of a word
but the wrong word ….
like i will use quite when I meant quiet.
or tiered when i mean tried
past when i should have used passed
composer when i meant composure
i end up reading something i’ve written
and will cringe as i find a mistake
i guess it’s a lot like my life
on first glance
as my life unfolds from my head
it looks all neat and purdy
but if i look just a little closer
i realize
i make a shit load of mistakes
you know
not intentional of course
and usually small and inconsequential
although
knowing i will burn my hand if i stick it into the fire
i sometimes seem to do it anyway