Numbers

Four walls.
Three doors.
One mirror.
Ten pictures.
Five pillows.
Two blankets.
One cat.
Ten fingers.
Ten toes.
Six books.
One lamp.
Three bags.
One floor.

Sneaky boy.
Oh you sneaky little boy.
Wish you were sneaking into my bed.

Save face little boy.
Save face you little lying boy.
What are you trying to avoid?
I haven’t been able to deal with much these days.

I know. I know.
I admit I am broken.
My head will explode with the complex planning.
Just go with the flow.
I know. I know.
But the current seems to be swirling around.
Trapped making circles. Always cycles.

I wonder why the goofy accent boy stopped talking to me.
Going through some crazy shit, he says.
Okay. I’m here.
I wonder why people say things they don’t intend to keep.
It’s okay. I’m here.
Don’t let the disappointment get to you dear.
That’s fair. I guess. I guess I’ll stay here.

I wish I could go back to not seeing the fear.
The egos swelling up, desperately trying to save themselves.
Just tell me what you need from me.
I will tell you what I need from you.
Oh is that too simple?
Let me boost you up.
Oh wait you forgot to offer me a hand.

Stupid fucking people.
Stupid fucking head.
Stupid fucking everything.
Oh but you can’t go to the ruins.
I can’t seem to find any support.
Oh well. It’s okay. I’m here.