Faulty Notions
Magical droppings, feelings fading to black
Ever present love, though something much more
An unequal yoke? Why pick up the threads of another’s
Tattered life, they are just throwing it to the wolves
Soon after? Repetitive anarchy, emotional chaos,
The rim of the crater glows hot. This time awareness,
Jumped not into mess, protected self… to their own
Devices, they are left. No more hand to beg for comfort,
To use as emotional pillow, discarding once sadness
Is abated. Sadness lurks very near, happiness is a practice;
A way of life, not something to just dip in to feel good and
Then rush back into shit. You are not prepared!
Hitchhiker 