trying to word it

an indignant kind of jealousy, 
seething is my piety 
a cruel, uncalled for resentment 
because things weren’t meant to be

too late to be a muse
but a friend could be of use,
is it worth the enthrallment 
only to be confused

reverent is my reticence
warmth grown to incandescence,
obvious is my deliquescence
because i melt at the sight,

and chew on my tongue

maybe that’s it, that’s the joke
there isn’t a structure
and things just come as they will
i dont see the rhyme or reason and pretending that there is meaning to anything i could possibly say, so why bother making it look pretty when i dont even know what im saying