Life is laundry,
life is dishes,
life is mowing the lawn
on a really hot day when you dont want to mow the lawn.
it's an itch where the scratch dont satisfy.
a broken reward circuit.
an endless procession of days punctuated by their ends.
several.
short.
halting.
sentences.
mop the floor.
walk the dog.
go to work.
awash in disappointment.
i'm always misspelling that word
familiar with it yet i fumble.
just like my ******* chores.

Maybe I'm just missing my home..
But I really feel like I'm searching,
For something I once knew well.
I hide my face in my hands too often,
Hoping for someone to tear me out
Of this hell I put myself in.
I would cry again, but whats the use?
Puffy eyes make me uglier.
Opinions of what to do with myself
Come out of everyone's mouth,
Screaming loudly for all to hear.
My thoughts are silent
Wishing for some life to spark in me.
Artistically speaking, my life is dull.
It used to flourish like the wilderness.
You haven't disappointed me.
I have disappointed myself deeply
Simply because I wait and wait.
I would run but where would I go?
Does it really matter what I think?
Sitting in one spot doesn't help.
So I'll sit in a field of wildflowers
Taking a simple step for myself
Where maybe I'll start to see.

maybe i missed you.
i missed the way you could turn wordless moments into something meaningful.
the way you could touch me and i could feel electricity running down my veins.
you were like the summer,
i was waiting and hoping for the sun while in winter.
you grew flowers in my brain and taught me how to speak like the birds:
chirping melodic songs with the breeze.
you taught me to be beautiful.
i can feel your absence.
maybe i missed you.