I am sitting here drinking.
I had a day that demands it.
I want to speak to you.
I want to hold the thoughts that harass you close.
I want to be walking in my garden.
I want to be thinking, feeling, and writing poetic thoughts of summer and firefly destiny in a bottle.
I want to be sweating in my flower beds.
I want to be.
I should be.
I am stuck here thinking about you.
I am in public an annoyance.
I know this as fact.
I regret little about my dissolution,
And advertise much about my desire to be left to my own devices.
I need not some tutorial.
Instructions for living I create facts all my own.
These thoughts, desires, loves, battles, and contempt of monkeys typing innuendo have been told through time.
I am unoriginal and boring,
But somehow still fresh to the masses.
I don’t want to be their explanation.
I just want to be your nightly retreat.
We are at such a distance,
Thoughts about our day is what we have to offer.
Perfect strangers except for the night we met.
Forgotten attraction that tonight I cling to.
And your daily troubles one day I hope to be immersed in and privy to.