... to not keep making these patterns…
... digging through the cavities of life...
… rotting holes that never heal...
... barely surviving on droplets, and crumbs...
... treading for solid ground...
... to finally find rest...
... how is it my problem that you can’t relate?…
... how is it my problem, that you don’t know what to say?…
... the hidden precursor is “want”...
... the hidden precursor is “priority”...
... the hidden precursor is “care”…
... the hidden precursor is “love (?)”...
... inaction becomes my problem...
… when you don’t try...
… when you deny…
… when you don’t speak...
… when you mock...
… when your backbone crumbles...
… when you repeat the hurt...
… ‘cause “friends don’t lie”...
… and the echoes of the longing...
… for mutual understanding...
… that intangible, untangle-not-able safety line...
… when memories and dreams hurt more than the words you spoke to me...
… the reveal of toxicity...
… an ever polluted world on macro, meso, and micro levels...
… to find appropriate air...
… to inhale a pause...
… to exhale break...
... a temporary relief...
… afloat on only driftwood...
… peasant jewels of the sea...
… like the self…
… harshly soaked, softly eroded...
… sometimes reaching, sometimes treading...
… while the swells grow high, and cells they hope...
… to not be hurt, to not be forever sore...
… ‘cause where is the care?…
… replaced by rage, and misuse...
… ‘cause I’m not your baseball...
… nor your wailing wall...
… to retreat to silent quarters...
… I close my eyes and hope for calmer waters...

<<<<<>>>>>

Listening:

Windsor For The Derby - Two