It's just...

I think there's something off...with me.

I'm reverting back to my childhood these days, refusing to grasp adulthood, whatever that means.

I don't have a filter. No edit point. It is what it is. Zero pretending.

I feel sixteen - caught in a stage of wonder, just waiting for everything to make sense. I don't think it will ever make sense: Life.

I don't mean to flirt with you: man, woman, dog, squirrel, uptight fella who never smiles. I just do. Teasing is fun.

I still believe in that dream, the one I had  8 years ago. That man in black, walking in fields of milky snow. That man who searches for me as much as I search for him...Uh, yeah, I'm here by the way. Hurry up!

Short men frighten me. Angry people turn me off. Yet I seem to attract both, like moths to light. Perhaps if I turn my flirtatious laughter to that of a hellish cry, walking on ten foot stilts, I will attract a worthwhile catch...I'll mull it over.

I think I do have a type. Never thought I did. Hmm...

I never make a promise I won't keep. I take secrets to the grave. I want you to be happy and I'll always have your back. I think you outta know this.

I want to try a smoke, just once, but I'm afraid I'll like it too much. But I'm also allergic.

I don't know if I have an addictive personality. It's possible. I'm stubborn as hell and won't believe anything you tell me. I drink coffee three times a day...Am I addicted to caffeine?

I sometimes fear that man in black is dead, or just tired of looking for me. Like me, tired of the journey.

I want to be gotten.

Broken

Trust.

When it's gone, it's gone forever.
Words have weight, not one syllable light. Never A vowel silent.
Careful who you share your words to.
Some hearts can think of no one else.

The chit-chat, gossip, the undone ramble.
Nerves gone affray, nothing to hold onto.
Intent driven by fear. The need to be wanted. Needed.
Forgive and move on. Learn and move forward.

Broken telephone line. Broken truth.
Childish lips drip, dripping on.
The he said, she said, they said script.
Written by someone untrue. But what's true?

Again, learn and move on. Don't harden your heart.
Pebbles, the mistake, the knots. The dirt.
Truth will unravel in perfect time. Trust that.
Stay sweet, stay you. Don't look back.

Look back to learn, if only that.
People are messy, faults spilling over.
Perfection is perfect only in its spelling.
Again, another word to fight.

When liars sleep, they sleep well.
But their heart thumps fast, afraid of you.
Few will come clean. The adult yet to bloom.
Don't be mean, they just don't know.



Never prove what you already know.