Lost in the Headway
Jan. 30th, 2005 03:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meccahiI have never made sense.
Why should I start now?
Don't mistake my lack of sense for a lack of logic. I have logic in abundance. Piercing and occasionally unavoidable.
I've just always found that sense is almost never common... and I find the ridiculous to be far more entertaining than the sensible world of white clothes and straightened ties and big man mentality.
It makes no sense that I would rather lose myself in a world of painted walls and muraled ceilings and layers and layers and layers and levels. To see the possibilities of what could be in a matte wall and brown eyes.
But my eyes are blue.
Sometimes I feel like the colors wash away in a leaking streak of frustration.
Is it that we drift from one color to another that I find in you an attraction that I cannot erase.
No amount of paint will color that wall. Or decorate that border. Or pull a heartstring tighter.
When I close my eyes I swim through stars and watch the waving world below in its current of space wind. There was a hand I was holding. And I pulled you from the sky to keep you breathing.
Then you were gone.
And I was mute.
I want what I cannot have... sensible no?
Why should I start now?
Don't mistake my lack of sense for a lack of logic. I have logic in abundance. Piercing and occasionally unavoidable.
I've just always found that sense is almost never common... and I find the ridiculous to be far more entertaining than the sensible world of white clothes and straightened ties and big man mentality.
It makes no sense that I would rather lose myself in a world of painted walls and muraled ceilings and layers and layers and layers and levels. To see the possibilities of what could be in a matte wall and brown eyes.
But my eyes are blue.
Sometimes I feel like the colors wash away in a leaking streak of frustration.
Is it that we drift from one color to another that I find in you an attraction that I cannot erase.
No amount of paint will color that wall. Or decorate that border. Or pull a heartstring tighter.
When I close my eyes I swim through stars and watch the waving world below in its current of space wind. There was a hand I was holding. And I pulled you from the sky to keep you breathing.
Then you were gone.
And I was mute.
I want what I cannot have... sensible no?
