Working things out in my head when the bed looks more inviting and the windows are letting the light in and I'm working things out in my head, exercising mentally to keep my mental faculties on top form.
it's a bit like long division when you're sitting on a logarithm and algebra drops in for tea and a chat about this and his cat and my mind wanders off into the wilderness.
The weather doesn't help me to find that place, tranquility is just a sea up on a moon upon a long time ago.
they buried a poet sprinkled his words over coffin tossed a book into dirt alongside and waited few decades to have a leaf sprout for winds to carry his lines far to one with open ears another circle in a world of squares have phrases strain down the cheeks into ink smeared on paper
buried in a trashcan in a diary in a library in dirt everywhere really...
I will spread dirt into every crevice of my broken heart and plant flowers so big and beautiful, that their roots will mend all the shattered pieces back together, and you’ll never be able to see the mess I used to be.