Journal-esque

Happy day
Spent in thoughts
(Streaming ninety-miles to nothing.)
As are the rest.

Thoughts
I think too much but
It’s not like I can
Stop them. I grew
Up alone in a full
House, don’t think
I’d know what to do
Without them. They
Are just who I am;
Words falling out
Filling the white
Space sweetly.

Forgot how to play silly
Somewhere along the way when
I kept trying
But he kept not listening.
No, still knew how, just stopped doing.
I like the doing.

Set mother aside recently – again.
She never understood how her drama
Just keeps killing me or how history
Really, really can’t be rewritten.

Along that line,
When did my past become a story upon
Which I may reflect, knowing it is has
Formed me wondrously and yet no longer
Affectually. I outgrew it, stormed past
On a blazing day looking ahead. Yet it may
Still hold relevance in knowing me.

Yes I just want to live and love,
Write it all down. Feed my soul
Fortune cookies and alliteration.

Hmmm, yes, today
I think I may
Go a darling
Light strawberry
Blonde.

And the weary little soul
Folds
Chill against the winter night
Lost
Thought she was found but
No
Thought she was home
Alone
Found she was in sore need
Afraid
To reach out, afraid to withdraw.

When the Christian god
Bleeds me dry I will still
Know him, soul weeping,
Walking the earth I am
Simply stronger than most.

It just tough times is all.

She wants to spend the night spooning,
Extra set a feet in the bed, soft snores,
But not if it's in the light of convenience.

I feed
The soul that sings
In a soft soliloquy
I feed
Her the man that opens
Doors and pulls out chairs
I feed
Her the flesh that moves
Under hands seeming small
I feed
Her the best thing since
Sliced white bread.

I
She take it all
(And it ain’t all good)
In leaps and bounds,
In stride…in knowing
No other way but to smile
'Cause
Once the choice is chosen,
All things can only come
To pass the way they do.
She get by on that high.

II
She sinks in covers warm,
Waking to the cool of morn
And giggles gleely, purring
Of her crush so sparkly, so
Innocent, sweet, unassuming.

Strangely void of words I wonder
Is the fat cat purring content?
She seems quite pleased with she, her
Lilting laughter laced with giggles and bounce.
And the music spins as she hums and
The people near hear her voice, convinced
All the world is turning to her tune.

The knife is swift, the cut is deep, the
blood flows red in memories,
red from the heart so small, so…

I am home, cold in the evening.
Guitar guttural streaming
Thinking and not thinking.

I want, I desire
Something real
Something becoming
yet I reside in the white
space forming slow and sweet.
In conscious effort
and mayhap deep at heart
singularity wants another
singularity
of the same to want to the lead
when no other has before.

I am home, cold in the evening
Differentiating the nature
of frailty and trust.