You were always on my mind.

September 15, 2011 § Leave a comment


“I guess I never told you, I’m so happy that your mine” – you were always on my mind. 

We are many things, to many people. That’s our nature. As humans. We are different people to our mothers as we are to ours friends as we are to our lovers as we are to our enemies. That’s just the way our brains our. The way we feel. The way we were supposed to be. No one could live as one person. It’s just not the way that anyone could pull this crazy trick off. This crazy trick being a fulfilled life. This crazy trick being the necessity of seeing to needs. This crazy trick being any attempt at the perfect game. Oh dear. He seems to be back on to the strange posts. The mad posts. The ones that scare his friends and enemies and lovers and friends. He seems to be back on the sauce. We like to pretend we got even. Leveled out. Even understood the crazy. How we wish to claim that the words of whoever reached the edge could be our own. No. they’re not for you. Those scribbles aren’t even an attempt at poetry despite what they maybe. They are merely a footnote, a notebook attempt at keeping track of what happened the night before. Drugs. Drugs. Drugs you will have to get your head around. A demon to be slain. Know your limits and stop before you grow too old. The body stays young until the cliff fall where you st0p caring. It shuts off. Game over after that. I keep hearing these noises in my house. They bang and clang and sing. It’s a little more I know, a little strong. A little way to keep me on the level. No lies just love. LEVEL OUT. No, it’s not coming, there’s no Tennesse Williams click, no Hendrix snap, no marker to be heard from the over indulgent. Your limits are your own. No one will spell them out. No one knows them but you. Unless of course you have never crossed them, in which case no one knows them. In which case I am yet to decide between hating you or envying you or just feeling a disregardful loss of spilling sorrow in your general direction. Shit. Shit? Yes Simon. Shit. You  tried so hard to keep yourself from falling back into those bad old ways. Shit. This is a good idea? Oh god. Here is comes. I love this song. Shit. Sense is overrated. Sense is a cold and calculated attempt at covering our true selves.  Myself. I’m me. You know that. You’ve seen me at me most me. That’ll do. Fuck us. It’s over.

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