Its not your romance that so frightens the deepest of my corridor.
Its what is upstairs,
In my mind
The stuff that has gathered dust,
That’s been shoved to and locked away in a corner.
Some mover left it there,
And there it sat,
Not knowing if it would have the lid opened in the future,
To reveal the contents inside.
So, perhaps I’ll shift my thoughts,
Move on to some new terrain.
Think with my thoughts being a completely separate entity of my own mind.
Escape my imagination.
Is it possible to escape one’s imagination?
Or would that just lead to further withdrawal.
******
You ask me what I want.
I guess it makes me nervous,
Uneasy.
I “Should Have” pinpointed that by now,
Huh?!
What if I haven’t?
The thought remains there.
There are a lot of what if’s
Chasing me around
Blowing like daffodils,
One seed in every direction.
You’re willing to go there with me
Aren’t you?
You know.
And how you know is beyond me.
But know you do.
Know that once my thoughts have been spread
Throughout the whole land
When I am but the green stalk that still stands *****,
No matter how shaken to and fro by the winds of my time.
You know.
Daffodils just grow more sunshiny yellows don’t they?!