from time to time.
I become selective with what
I remember, selective to fill
my own action's narrative
with what bolsters what I feel
the outcome to be.
From holding back on how I currently
feel, to attempting to be finite in
my action(s).
Nothing ever is finite, save death.
And each day is just a tiny bit
like/unlike the day before.
So today, I'll forward my thoughts
to everything being what it will,
what I want it to be.
And let Otis take my brain home,
with cigarettes and coffee.
Well as conversations to be had,
and things to be done.
I accept all to be.
