Thursday.

What a mess am I.

I look for omens in skinned knees and spilled coffee, but forget it all when I see you.
What does it take to stay convinced?
I am always, always, always catching myself and trying to figure it out.

I have trouble saying what I mean to, but I can use up all of everything trying to get it across.

What do I mean by anything ever?

He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out!

Why am I attracted to dangerous situations?
Why is it so hard to remind myself not to jump?
Why can't I accept things at face value?

Oh well, oh well, oh well.
Someday I'll work it out, maybe.

I think I just think too much.

{Hey, listen!}