I'm scared.
My emotions are supposed to be mine and mine alone.
But why is it that they can be triggered by someone else?
Why is it that I can't rein them in?
I'm losing control of myself
And I'm scared of the consequences it entails.

Just as "we make our beds and have to lie in them",
So do we choose our bedfellows.  The locale of the bed
We end up in should be presently considered.

The ultimate arrogance:
believing you can live a life
without consequences.
- mce

The crow works its way sideways on the wire.
Nature lives at full tilt. It does not worry

That it may soon be used up.  It lives in the moment
In pursuit of having a fulfilled purpose.

For the busy crow the fleeting moments pass unnoticed;
Time scarcely has consequences for the satisfied;

Down he flies for crusts of hamburger buns.

Life is like a highway, you never know where it is going to take you,
With multiple ways to get to your destination like different exits on the highway,
And plenty of choices and challenges,
Comes new opportunities and outcomes,
Some good and some bad,
You never know the full consequence
Until you have taken it too far

My hands weren’t sweating when I said it.
                    I will never write a love song.
It never seemed like anyone could see
past the pink
                swirly
                       fogging their eyes.

   How pathetic.

But cheerios get soggy
when I look away this long
and I wrote my first melody
because of your swirly eyes.

   They’re so much darker,
                 like rotted leaves.

And second,
                third,
(voice cracking, echoing)
      my fingertips
are splitting over these strings.

Fourth-
palpating vibrations killing the me
I’d thought furthest through.
I swear,
I wont crack as hard this time, but-

I can’t tie my shoelaces
without tearing flower petals,
so I walk around stumbling,

falling
into pretty girls.

Betty Jones was a talker.
Had the whole town spun in her web.
Door to door she'd collect her prey.  Cunningly, she'd score on each stay.

In confidence, they'd all come clean
About some week old drama
or the fresh cooked steam.
And while she twisted
And plotted
and sewed
the lies and propaganda began to grow.

She became ever so greedy
with reputations held up in her fist
that she didn't seem to notice, really,   the deep hole they'd dug in her midst.

Shed thought she had it made,
her silky voice and her grin....
Thought she'd go on forever....
Until one day the did her in!

Betty Jones was a talker.
Had the whole town spun in her web.
Not thinking of the consequences.
She ended up dead.