Just Di

Epiphany.
Crazy.
Sane.
Right there.

I seem to talk way too much, but never really understood.
To many words fuddling the real meaning.
The one I haven't seen but is waiting patiently for a quiet time.
Who knows, but at least they come... However infrequent at times...
Sometimes too infrequent.
Nevertheless.

Here it is.
HEAR ME!

Sabotaging the good time, the good thing...
It's always easier than seeing it fall down at my feet.
Saturday was sobering, in more ways than I could ever speak
out loud... Way out loud...
No ears will hear that tale.
That's locked away, never to be told tale.
It's the mystery they'll wonder about for awhile, til
something more interesting comes to take it's place.
I lost hold of my short rope.
I went out that same night and bought a bigger one.
No worries.

Scared little girl, looks so deceivingly big for her age.
Scared is such a great word.
Trial and error, sometimes too many errors in the trash
bin of my memory.

I can throw a crazy question in the air and the whisper
back is amazing... Slow, low, and ridiculous.
Carbon copy of the last one. Cut and paste here...
Right here... Oh, and here too...

It's okay, I understand where it comes from.
Deep down in sky blue eyes. That's okay.

Acid rain.
Creeping Ivy, and the drought we've all felt.
Skin feeling parched and un-used.
Not cared for. Where's the moisturizer?
Where's the cute nail polish that sparkles?
Where's the comfort in cotton?

My life has been like permanent marker on a pair of new pants.
I need someone with a big bottle of stain fighter and the
balls and know how on how to use it.
I didn't even have to place an ad, or pay 50 bucks for it.
I didn't have to place a faceless image with words that
don't mean shit in the first place.

Silence can be a scary room to be locked in.
Sometimes the silent scream comes out in puzzles only
the one with open arms can put together.
No map needed. No key found here. Error in the directions,
but does a real man really need directions?
Some flounder, some just see the right way.
No stone unturned.
No facial expression or lack of one is ever missed.
No mask needed on this everyday Halloween.

But it's all right, it's okay...

Goose pimples from chilly air, same as the feel of
fingertips. This simply won't do..
Won't do at all.

Funny.
Always burning that bridge. The fire keeps burning my ass.
It's okay. It's all right.
No one ever avoids the burn.
Want to rub on a little salve?

So sad to be so angry... so blind not to see it eating you away.
You're not underprivileged, you're just not appreciative.
Who says you deserve more than what you have.
Who the hell are you, anyway. What do you expect?
Rose petals under your feet and one way mirror?
You're dreaming, you better wake yourself up,
before it's your 40th, you roll over and she's not there...
No one's there... only the scent of the stranger...
The feeling it all slipped away, and for what?
Did the cake really taste good all these years?
You can have it, you can eat it too... but doesn't it
suck when you're eating it alone, in your underwear,
with only a cat for company?

Crazy.
So not worth the effort.
Terrible tale of the lost soul in a lonely room.
The worst is the fact you will only see it, Rupelstiltskin.

I may hate myself in the morning.
It's easier at night to bluff.
It's dark... There's hardly any light.
It's like a cave.
Hollow and echoing.
But hey, it's okay. It's all right.
Tomorrow is another day, and another drive to work...
drive home... drive to the store...
You pick which one.

Survival.
Hold your head up high.
Escape from under the thumb.
Walk away with nothing but your self, broken pride,
and the rest of your life to make it 100 percent better.
Duct-tape will work for now... It's stuck for a year or so.
Good shit that duct-tape.
A girls best friend.
Power tools come in pink now, you know...
There isn't anything anyone can buy for you, you can't get
online.
Faltering. It's okay. That's all right...
No worries.

Maybe incomplete.
Do you want to borrow my duct-tape.
If you hold mine in here... I'll hold yours in there...
Broken hearts only seep through your fingers, no one else's.
Even if some have razorblades for love.
Some have band-aids and cut glue.

It's all right. It's okay.
I've got a lot to give.

What have you got?
Where are you now?
All you have is yourself.
The same place you left me to suffer.
The real strong ones get up, honey.
The real strong ones move on...
They cry, they scream, they fight...
but they make it, on there own.

What goes around, comes around.
It's called Karma, baby, and it GOES around.
It's all right. It's okay.