self ponderings

I don't sleep much.
I worry almost constantly.
I like driving, and I like the river.
I like rain, and I like seeing my windshield
wipers race after it, either a lustful chase or
a blood-spattered war. I even like the fact
that the seal of my sunroof is broken, and
when it rains hard, I have to hold napkins up
to the lightbulb, and put a sweatshirt on the
passenger seat. It seems sweet. My car and the
sky's tears, having a meet and greet.

I like trains.
I like the veins on my feet.
I like birds, even though they occasionally
take a dive for my car.

I like seeing people's freckles,
or scars. I understand why people
leave, and why some swallow bleach,
as if they wished to reach purification
but achieved it through the wrong connection.

I like looking at photographs.
I like making my friends laugh. I like
composition books. I like watching someone
take notes. My mind likes to stray, and before
I know it, I'm wondering if they've ever rode in a boat.

I like my bed.
It appreciates
the fact that I've
become a mound of
disappointment as of late,
and even when I've done
something horrid, it doesn't
try to keep me at bay.

I like feeding my
guinea pigs hay.
I like telling them
stories, and watching
TV shows with them,
'cause I think that, while
others say they don't know
much, they still appreciate a
life of love and adventure. They
may be confined to a cage, but at least
they know how the Doctor and Rose saved
worlds together.

I like the colors purple,
blue and green. Life is confusing.
I'm still trying to figure out what
all of it means.