Trails

Running so fast, I’m losing myself while getting lost , but isn’t that
how I go about losing you too?  If the thoughts were a little less
linear perhaps the point would be found with a little more confidence
but instead of an arrow, a heaping brick of words and thoughts lay ,
conjoined and straining at the skin. The confidence of keeping is a
strange thing but maybe it’s not confidence at all , but the ego of
being human.  Selective and fickle reaching for objects of natural
selection only to settle for the heard of pickings that comes from the
least bit of work. Some, while charming, lay in wait while the others are
much more demanding in their steps, mice falling faint at the doorstep.
Those are just the types of despicable you find , but today it’s called
amusement..their filth is their gain but isn’t it mine to ? I’m crawling
to the end of the universe,  getting a little dirty is part of the
trip. I couldn’t call myself more than them with my dirty little
collection hobbies, pick me up Tuesday, and I’ll see you next September,
if the clouds are strangely aligned we’ll call it negative and make it
November. I’m meeting me in you and you’ll never know it , but the irony
is a little much to avoid as I’m staring into a hunter’s gaze…though he
will never see the wolf in me and if I show it then were nothing more
than a pack, out to divide and conquer, chit chat the stories at the
meeting points  of the week, but don’t be foul enough to call us
friends. The whites of your eyes as you pass us by simply proves I’m not
your keeper , but at least with all the bodies in tow , I can say your
not mine either…