color commentary before she met me
this girl gave me the peace sign the other day and i haven’t been the same since
it eats at me like good poetry when i’m on the neighbor’s lawn at dawn blowing smoke rings and dreaming of classy women with my thoughts full of vagaries like i’m losing the war i’m scared of the fee and there’s this silence constantly
when i counteract didactic tactics from concerned pneumatics with grammatical back flips and hash hits it rains and i hope it pours and always want more but it shouldn’t be told
i’d rather be lyrically ambitious sparking red bics to kill the sickness in the glass bong where i just want to move on from this fear from early on when the girls called me a leprechaun
i spend my days working on color commentary on the silence around me through words that end up being lonely and sometimes it’s almost enough to lose faith in the philosophy that one day she’ll see through my misanthropy
until then i’m up all night with this love to give but anxiety mixed in with negative thoughts so i don’t take part just leave art and get by on big dreams and bad decisions that leave me with one two three four pairs of ribs sticking out of my cage
on which a friend just a friend whispered once to me ‘you’re like sleeping next to a bag of bones’ and all i could do was agree
with the girls that gave all their love away and the guys that just wanted to get laid any way but shit that isn’t what i meant to say so it’s back to basic math where i divide divide divide all of you into little groups in an attempt to sort through the things we do
for the directions to the meaning that rubs the sleep out of my eyes as i’m aiming for that inaccessible point in this asymptotic sky where each time i fall short but each morning i get up because one day i’ll finally be able to turn to her and say, hey
