I missed the party but not really "missed"
as in I "believe" I would have fun at these things but
I just can't. My hand sways over a house of cards.
My fleeting potential is not realized.
Watching the rain fall from the kitchen sink
and imagining acoustic guitar strums from the 70's.
What a ******* gorgeous cliche.
My heart is sound, my hand waves over this house of cards;
every ******* mistake I can make to hold this in place
is a victory made holy made sainthood.
The veritable laundry list of mistakes I've made,
and the shopping list of **** I'm going to do.
I'd hope I'm appearing as if there is a masterstroke
to all this chaos, except, I'm not even a minor influence.
A gentle wind rolls by.