Eyes Closed

This is perfect. No way I’m giving this up. Sing song, and a sweet melody.

 

He’s a genius. Who’s he? Well, there are many “he’s” that make it all worthwhile. That one up there. And that one who rights my outs before the night. And this one who plays the sweetest melodies. That’s what comes to mind.

 

When the song is over, or when I think it is, how will I know? Who’s going to tell me?

 

Motion on they keys… on so many levels.

 

 Too fast, they’re all too fast. What’s a girl to do? Eyes closed, thinking of the unthinkable. Let’s not go there again. Too much for today. For my life.

 

I need to start that. Always something to start. Never something to finish. It works. Argue all you want, but that’s how it goes. That’s the way it is.

 

No more music. The sweet melody is gone. And I’m left in another country, surrounded by crazy roofs and painted people selling themselves for a living. That’s a concept. I want to be sold to nothing else but that one up there.

 

Sometimes I wonder why I can’t be home. When I get home, I’m still longing for home. See? Never something to finish. What if it never ends? I know it won’t, but that’s too much. Not today, not ever.

 

I wish this could be followed, but usually the mush up inside my top part can’t explain things very well. Go figure.

 

When I rub my eyes, I see things. What if I do that forever?