mind you

i am tired
now
i write
late
so thoughts sound
loud
and echoes puncture my finger
(the finger with the important words and the lame attempts)
i don't know
why
i
do it
it's like my come. it must leave me
in this form
or that (la la la di da di da di da, A#m, D#, A#m, D#)
for all the choices
we have
we have
only a few
when it comes
to our guts and our bones
our form lies
deep
shivers wrestle
the loneliness

trying to catch a fly
with a match and some dreams

but when i love ya
in the morning
does it wake
up to a beat
or down to your feet

but i don't
know
i
am
tired
now.
before i delete
this
i must
send. then it will be something
that was
not here