little miss sunshine

when i'm with her and when i'm not, the difference is like plants withered with inner rot or timber limbered taut. my minds been simmered by the pot, but regardless i'd still have these dimmer thoughts. Because when i'm sober or no, to go about my business i'm slow, undevoted, if it's known to me the sun's been lowered and clouds flown in from sea to settle directly over me. Days like these, the eggs are served from ovaries. With ease I would aim to please totally any request she spoke about notably. Without the warmth provided from the star that's lighted away years of time, there's no point to climb. So if it helps to dance under the rays of shine to summon the goddess of summertime, I'll keep up a beat better than any drummer, even the bunny kind. And that's the change I begin to see in me. Now i continue dancing if the clouds keep advancing, only enhancing the emotion in the moment once they finally flee the scene. To behold again and be held by a life source unequalled, the anticipation itself is a catalyst to ward off evil. Lately I've been trying to recognize a role reversal, what it'd be like to reside high in the sky, feel the weight as you pull in circles every pebble that caught hold and won't peel away. To be expected to stay awake til all times, never taking breaks to unwind. Forced to behave the same one day to the next without a way to move a step or two, fated centrally. I doubt I could do it, the expectations would wreck my fuses eventually, but somehow this star uses them to stay solidly fluid, influencing the behavior of all encompassed. She was here long before me and foreseeably after, she's seen all the darkest times and those patterned with laughter, and every other type scattered in between. From here on I wanna remain calm and contented about whatever state the dawn's presented, and just celebrate the fact that I'm alive to behold, cement it in my mind's every fold.