Vanity? I suppose. Honesty be chosen? Infection guides my under clothing decisions that so frequently under construction. Red, swollen, weeping infectious tissue where soft skin once laid. A bug bite turned into a sore spot. I'm not trying to impress anyone, sincerely. I just don't dislike you enough to shimmy and shake the "No,it won't infect you I'm a caregiver with the state of Oregon' dance and follow up by seamless sway that has respective rhythm into a graceful grand finale of "Yes! I've done it for eight years.." . When in fact, I have no idea whether that is actually even true. I don't know what dance I've been doing for the last eight years. Infect you? Most likely, it definitely won't. I definitely haven't. Been caregiving. Also, nearby and adjacent, is the charred little bit on the back of my upper left thigh. A seared reminder is left, where the one dude from Bend I let call me baby enough until he bought me a bus ticket home burned me with a cigarette. Not really though, we had a blast and I blamed him purely out of drunken fun I wouldn't admit to my friends. Tattoos all over the dude. Decidedly, I'll attempt to heal such malleable momentos quickly and mostly unheard by being covered by decently on the small side band-aids, these wounds of whoops, in all ways a child's pose of what I like to call 'humility hounded by truth' are glaring examples of my back assward approach to getting life, in a general way altogether, effectively kept under sterile cloth, and for your safety and purpose of conversation, kept taped out of sight and in the goss of out of mind. Preferably prefaced and predictably red faced. That being insinuated, these little weirdo body suits that sometimes trick your mind's eye to make my small pants fit are a staple I find to secure what jiggles with wholesome albeit silly intention and regretted fully with my ever upgraded internal software Hindsight 20/20. Safety pants. To cover wounds. For All of Us.
As that story surely has been over told,
I am working on some silly shit. I basically listen to people and I let them know I get the point. But in fact, I think it's more important for them to know I understand the directions, get the point obviously, that once I"ve really proved that I can listen.. I wonder off alone and give my best dollar dance called 'I don't know how to follow the directions'. Not because I don't. Or do, fuck maybe I'm pretty sure I do. Not because she shouldn't spend less time straight from the horse's mouth. I just got lost in thought and I can't remember who called the shot anyway. I'm not trying to impress you. But, I'm not trying to piss you off.
Sunny but partly crowdy. And a slight chance of rain. Call it whatever you want I just hear people and then forget what we're doing. I want everyone to be happy whether or not that means it at all.
As that story surely has been over told,
I am working on some silly shit. I basically listen to people and I let them know I get the point. But in fact, I think it's more important for them to know I understand the directions, get the point obviously, that once I"ve really proved that I can listen.. I wonder off alone and give my best dollar dance called 'I don't know how to follow the directions'. Not because I don't. Or do, fuck maybe I'm pretty sure I do. Not because she shouldn't spend less time straight from the horse's mouth. I just got lost in thought and I can't remember who called the shot anyway. I'm not trying to impress you. But, I'm not trying to piss you off.
Sunny but partly crowdy. And a slight chance of rain. Call it whatever you want I just hear people and then forget what we're doing. I want everyone to be happy whether or not that means it at all.
