Its like having a song stuck in your head
that plagues you at the oddest times,
when you forget,
when you forgive,
when you are about to lose your mind.
There are pieces which hollow out,
parts which blare like a horn,
and you whistle a tune,
to cover the blanks,
and keep repeating that song.
You twist the words,
to make it your own,
hum the stretch which lingers,
so much that you breathe in tune.
And you play it over and over
to comfort the oddest hour which peaks,
because nothing really,
is as comforting,
as certainty.
Even that of an annoying song.