sticking my thumb out

we washed along the shore
my ebb matching your flow
for a short time
i hung on your spirit
though the grasp
was a whimsical notion

straggling along
cool, calm and collected
no bite to my nails
dormant long and sharp
feeling the knife in my back
letís dig deeper shall we

i am on a cataclysmic
downward spiral
losing to the blues
Gloomy Sunday with Billie

crawling through the sand
speckled pieces captured
along the way my interests vast
my collection growing small
the web no longer vivid
Charlotte resigned this morning

i am but a blown dandelion
dancing along the wind current
the direction not specific
my heart on quiet retreat
bound by selflessness
chained by knowledge
broken by loyalty

sticking my thumb out
no longer wanting to reside
in the here and now
letís hitchhike to a bar
jukebox friendly
my hips ready to move

always wanting to move

there is no respite in stopping
no memories worth packing
i like to travel light
my existence a quiet
whisper of time

my need to feel ignorant
on an all time high
my simple mind craving
nothing but Maslowís
hierarchy of needs
benign of want or desire
one level short of miserable

i have choices
iím not making them
somebody give me a lifeline
iíve fallen
I do not care
to get up
Written by hrshykss
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