The words escape me
My mind circles in on itself.
Faster faster.
Here we are, looking deeper.
Still searching for some significant meaning.
Making mountains out of mole hills,
Sculpting happiness in the bile and muck.
It is man made from feces and mud but it is ours.
Possession is important.
Happiness is overrated.
Looking to connect the dots on pieces of paper and complaining when it goes wrong.
Wondering which turn would have taken you to the bigger pile of ****.
Never satisfied.
You as usual.