It said I was married,

It lasted a while,

It’s over now,

Security is in

Home is safe,

Work is good,

I’ll have faith,

That when I die,

I’ll be ok,

As long as it’s,

Not today 🙂

I hit my break

And then

Something different happened

I aired out my laundry

But then I took a step back

Proceeded mindfully

Lied a few times

And resided at home

Peacefully and in time

To save my own soul

From mind control

Did you use me?

Did you ask?

Did you spin

A wearer’s task?

I’m so thankful

That I’m not

Just a blood filled afterthought

And yes I write

Some magic too

But lord Jesus

What else can you do?

I’m sitting at the laundromat,

Fighting nature’s wrath

But sadly it’s uncontrollable

Sometimes I do laugh

To think I have any control

Over what you say

And I’m not sorry that I saw the game

And tried to save the day

That was yesterday,

And maybe now

I can relax,

And enjoy now.

I’m asking you

If you’re reading

What is this,

That you are feeling?

A little fun?

A little game?

A little bit of my love’s gain?

I know you well,

You spend a lot,

My chair is over

And I admit it’s tough

But when I wait

I huff and puff.

And I bet that

You do too

Sometimes there’s still the thought of you.

And you’re sometimes mad, but I forgive you.

It may take a lifetime to find a home again

But even when you’re alone again

No matter where, when, why or how

What you do is up to you and that’s just now

So if I write this

Will you clean

Or cast at me

The in-between?

If I made sense

To anyone

Would it be reason

Or any fun?

Could life’s old games

Be perfect now

Both too late yet early

Holy cow

The guy is married

To his name

Something weird

Or I’m insane?

I’m finding in

Without

And then the spin

Of doubt

Maybe then

But when

OK she asks

Say then

But what

No time

But how

Overtime

Wrong one

Not yours

But whose

Shores

Then why

Incase

Resays

Mace

Follows that

That’s two

Correct

Can’t you

Over?

Sure

But true

I fight

Say it

On-site

Can’t trust

But where

Everythere

And then

The pen

Makeshift

Yo sign

To sign I mean it

Blast it all

Ice cream it

Now whyey

Ok

Timing

Last straw

Coupled up

For all?

Too much

Oh whhhhat

The hey

it’s definitely a race. Of time and place, of the secret hunt. Of a sharing person, of something given, don’t take the wind, at least sometimes, it pushes, sometimes it’s a fight, sometimes truly I’m not alright. Up there somewhere, when I am grounded, I realize that it’s so profound.

I need a cheaper pound. And a way to pay, a dime to give, or something more to say. I guess there’s more to life than this, even if typing is temporary bliss. So in cantor and meter, in silence but not, I’m telling you that I never forgot.

Hey, it’s OK. Sometimes I gotta be not ok, just to get better, but maybe there’s other ways I could adapt, play or choose, things, people, or clues, or just let it all dissipate, sometimes just to give other’s – and myself – maybe even God – a little bit of a break from stress. So that’s a decent plight perhaps, enjoy, try, and do the necessary things and definitely the right ones.

It’s not really all so bad, I work it up inside; sometimes I say I’ll give it up, but then do it and then hide. It’s easily known, in or out; I give it all an utter doubt. Then to me, back it goes, I double out, throes and throes. Twenty one, even may, be the last, finalé.