Business and Pleasure

Accountability is free you know?

The intelligence needed to evolve from a place you’ve previously been and to rise to the richness of change.

To become better than before.

All free for your exploration.

Your opportunity to sail beyond the oceans of complacency and to drown in the wonders of the next. The freedom in understanding.

But fuck that right?

You rather go from state to state and girl to girl claiming that the problem is everyone and everything but you?

Like nothing is real but the sounds you mumble underneath your breath as you add a tempo and claim it art. 

Like Los Angeles is fake and brands aren’t real, and somehow that red turtleneck and white jeans is what doesn’t need to be questioned. 

Your uncomfortability in learning because then it’s revealed how little you know.

How fun really wasn’t all that glorious when you see how the other side does it.

What will that relization mean for your story? The book you’ve finished but can’t quite put down.

Not for tumbling tranquility that got a little rowdy. 

Not for a pretty princess in a high tower who might want a bit too much.

Not for the sun that shines over a new haven offering you warmth from the cold of long car rides over. 

No, you want the darkness. 

To relish in the hurt of the past because bleeding feels safer than healing today. 

You want to speak of fixing as though it’s the topic of your life’s journey, but you haven’t moved since the last soliloquy.

You ain’t on shit. 

You couldn’t be. 

Could you even imagine what truth is?

Not the semblance of honesty as you request peace to hide from feeling.

But the gut wrenching mirror to face as you notice wounds over scars you thought you were done with.

Go get better baby.

Save us all the misery of watching your lips out move your actions and your moves disassociate from the sound of your voice.

You think you see me?

Like I wanted you to make me feel how I want to feel.

Well I guess you ate that one.

Tasted me a little too close as I dripped with optimism for you.

A finish so bitter to us both as we climbed trees in the opposite directions.

4 dates and a few paragraphs later, where did the time go?

And all before the summer even kissed me how we tried.

Wish me the best and I wish you rest. 

It must be tiring to point endlessly in every direction but home.

I hope you find home.

Until then I hope you find new clothes.