Might be quarter face blind.
My mind?
Like similes metaphorically stewing in the test tube. Words dropped with care one by one into the mix until...
The yearning to express pressing forth... a yearning for open fire hydrants in oppressive concrete oven in a dream to sleep.
Desire and fear of the same....
Yearning and loss.
My mind?
No. Its fine.
A new mantra.
Thanks, it is what it is.
Sorry.
Sorry.
My mind?
Nah. Im fine.
A mask.
A facade to protect you from weapons grade emotional toxin spray.
we all wear it sometimes.
My mind?
Time.
Its just time.
the ebb and flow of change
so i wait
and i try to figure out...
my mind.