Sometimes I Just... Do "things"

After I get it
I always forget why I wanted it

Like a dog chasing car’s
My touch of madness
Never did have a planned ending
Always compulsive, each and every time

And even if I saw it. . .
I wouldn't know what to do with fulfillment

      - anyway -

From a clutch of strange memories
There is something inside of me
Enchanting me
Recycling me cleverly
     - pathologically -
    twisted

I am addicted
To something not drugs
And I cannot explain that
But I may know where it comes from

That touch of addiction
My drop of compulsion

For the world as insane
Is the only way
I ever knew her

    - intimately -

Everything about me is unplanned
Even this
Even now
Nothing is planned
     i just breath
   and chase car's
(my god is futility)
And daily do I pray
Each and every day
Do I pray

Author's Note

Reviews

[Shy Joe]

Life can be unforgiving ruthless chaos. Even when we are following step by step instructions like, a grocery list.

Even when the world burns around you and you're laying in the cinders of ash, you can always pick up a new list, and start again.

Enjoyed your poem. Thanks for sharing.