Scattered Thoughts (w/Bob Ross on in the background)

For whatever reason
We find it so easy
To hear what we want to hear
and see what we want to see
while we struggle deeply
with disgruntled ennui
to say what we want to say
and be what we want to be

Hiding behind
The thoughts that we hide
(inside)
Like shameful secrets;
scandalous lies….
behind our eyes
where we hypnotize
Our minds to sleep
to hold on to dreams
with desperate greed

Each of us live in our own little story
exploring a version of reality
Disconnected from the rest
Because of what we’re convinced we need

For whatever reason
I keep forgetting
that I don’t ever want to
want her back
again.

Love turns stale….

At the back of the shelf
As one loses its sense of self
In the constant neglect
Of empirical rejection

Hearts grow cold
When they sit all alone
Afloat on a boat
they’ve been told
is Made to be rowed
by two.

{Fuck this shit
Fuck all of it
[though I guess
Getting hurt by those
You've loved the most
Is supposed
to feel this way]

I'm ready to grow up.
I’m Ready to move on,
Ready to let everything
We've been be done

If that’s what you want to hear…
If that’s what you need to need…}

For whatever reason
It seems that the thought of her
was all that was ever
really even there of her
____________________________
I’m watching the puppy sleeping
on the other side of the room,
the energy of spinning circles of
chased and chasing tails and teeth
finally spun out into a slump;
a pile of silent slumber
softly sighing in the corner.

I’m caught catching my thoughts
into nets of notes
of scattered prose
As she snores
stretched out
Reaching with every stretch
until she’s reached her furthest stretching

But now she rests for a moment from growing
Yawning in pondering
in await for tomorrow
Wondering at what’s wandering
In the passing breeze
Through the window