Thought Process

Success, might transgress if one sucked less

Finding yourself stuck somewhere rutless, ruthless.

It’s odd that even that, one can’t get right

Something one might be able to do is get stuck like glue

Out of nowhere, out of the blue,

while being bluestly true

But one has to be safe, maybe more like paste

Or rice when one runs out squeeze it with a fingertip and thumb

See if it sticks if it’s right you can taste.

Anyway,

I fancy myself as a normal guy.

Fancy enough to bow but somehow not for a formal tie.

Unsophisticated like Venetian blinds

But I prefer wooden slats.

So I frequent IKEA.

But not for their boxspring-less beds.

But for the arrows on the floors

So I’ll have some direction even if I walked with my head hanged low.

It could very well be in the clouds,

but these clouds obscure my view

When I look down to others,

wanting to be back right down to earth.

So instead my head’s just above water,

I hate not being able to see my feet.

Because one knows not what lurks ready to lunge for their heels for treat.

The fear enough to put one’s hand over mouth

One only creating more splashing from just an arm attempting not to drown, but successfully attracting predators of those in distress

But I’m on land thankfully we have only scavenging vultures

Except they’re impatient and don’t even wait for you to die.

On land, one can use both hands to cover each eye but then enters fear through the ears

One can’t do this or the other,

rings so clear from the center having covered ears nearly wont matter.

Only less dirt getting in.

Unlike the speaking mouth which eats, or the nose that smell yet can sneeze, the eyes that sees but can also allow peers to peer into one’s soul,

the ear is quite unevolved or otherwise. A minimal output and such a maximum intake compared to the rhino’s old factory in every sense of the word.

It’s unlikely to give out information unless your body language tells you’re lying.

Other than that, zilch.

Meanwhile one can be your eyes,

one can speak for you if you want,

one can give you a hand.

Ultimately one can only lend you an ear.

It is because that is enough?

Is that why the lender wants it back or, perhaps no one wants to keep it once it has listened?

Regardless, I need your ears contrary to popular belief.

I need your ears like I want you to give them to me to be the ones I tell my every day to.

But as much as I want them, I need you to keep them with you because it’s more important than how my day was is the unspoken that you must hear that my heart is beating for you.