Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I wander through the rooms
of my of cluttered mind like a lost tenant
looking for something I've forgotten
jingling a ring of cranial skeleton keys

A dream so profound I wake up
and talk to myself for a few minutes
then slip back into another building,
you are there with your long auburn hair

falling about the furniture in curls
that hide your intentions, be them pure
I'm sure, 'cause I never knew you to think ill
of anyone

I wish my tongue had worked just once
instead of just lying there like a slab of bacon,
I wish I had been a bit more articulate than a mime
and more charming

why is it often so hard to speak
your heart in person, and why
does that now haunt me in my dreams....
maybe my fantasy is all a bunch of nonsense

a big mistake running on a loop-track of regrets
maybe I need to confess, or acknowledge
ambiguous events as they come to me one by one
before the death knell rings

why is it..... I wonder.... if you are happy

regrets... if-only's... roads not taken that maybe should have been, or vice-versa... the way Liz went quiet and touched my arm when I gave her a lift to her girlfriend's house - & then the way my brain froze up, so I could only smile wanly & mumble "seeya tomorrow"... misreading Judy's attention as mere friendliness, and not the flirtation that it was... misreading another Judy's attention as flirtation, & not the mere friendliness that it was... unable to voice my doubts to Betty before plunging into marriage... and then unable to safely express my anger, resorting instead to keeping silent, keeping score...

What strange, inscrutable beings these humans be! So much easier to walk among them now that my glands are drying up......

great response Roy.....we humans have a lot more in common than not I think....