Made a list, couldn’t check it off.
So I left it on the kitchen wall where I can’t ignore it.
Almost ran out of space from all of the possibilities thrown down frantically as they escaped me.
Dotted lines & point-form questions got off my mind & took up the page.
Always knew that I thought too damn much,
but I never knew how it would make me feel.
Faced it all after the fact, read it back & lost my breath again.
Walked away just to come right back.
I’m not trying to convince you of anything.
Without you nothing’s certain, that’s for sure.
Left a space for you to fill, don’t waste it.
Don’t tell me what I want to hear, tell me what is real.
What is really going on here?
Did I ever stand a chance?
Everything looks good on paper.
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The Wandering Mind 