The Cravers Wait Just Outside Your Mind

Open to the world. Open to the future. I am so tired of the Psychos. Sure, I am an asshole, but I don’t fuck with people. The past had love and feelings. A fool told a greater fool some truths, as if they were great lore. Well, Fuck You. Hee hee.
Hold me now. Embrace this tired form. It shakes. It endures. It moves. With some unknowing need. To see the next. To see more. The feelings are so raw and full. Happy with their truths. Some say I am cold. I just feel with a different set of speeds.
I don’t believe in panic.
I don’t believe in fear.
Smooth apathy, like the other side of the pillow. If I had know that all it would take was a petty loss to free me of the idiotic attempt to care for something I should have left broken and forgotten, I would have given more than that for the Knowledge. Never try to be fair with something stupid.
On all accounts it is for the better. Life is for the better. There are those who make my life sweet. Through their present attentions, or the hope brought of possible futures. Some with the kind gestures leaving me feeling so unworthy, to those who were kind in the past, scaring me as owing forever. None ever forgotten.
Like my smooth and lacquered footsteps. Across so many doorways and smoldering bridges. Sitting there. Pleasure to the eye because of the importance imparted to them.
So many thoughts. And the ones which seem a little bad are still not sad. Mostly they are to do with understanding and repair. Coming to the point when one can say sorry, and mean it, because you really, finally, are sorry.
And then, the stars looked down.
The stars. Forever. Bright, free, chaos. Beautiful.