Gold Panning

Rose glasses shade,

I was once circumvent and bent,

And I find myself here before,

And all my befores’ too.

It doesn’t equate to whatever love I felt before or occurred,

This passion, and transience to my disorder has been earth-shattering because I realized you read me.

Had me pinned real good, before I had a clue.

Or semblance of.

However I was before – god, awful.

I admitted that.

And I seemed keen to figure it out, once again this morning.

Something stupid.

I find some type of stupid laughter in this and I write with dismal opportunity, and I still haven’t gotten that coffee.

To be meta is to forsake; shall we continue?

I got my old records on.

Ever since the fire went out.

My ear is ringing at the sync.

My divinely feminine woes and I’m eating horseshit for breakfast.

Better than being the dog.

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My feet are a mere two and half inches from outside the window.

And the world is set beneath my feet.

Mind up in the air.

Listening for your call.