Rant

Don't you think, don't you think that I am completely over it. Do hope this is my last and only rant. Don't you know I can tell there is something you ain't saying? The images speak louder that anything else you may decide to show me. I see not your hand, I do see your smile, I can smell the essence you leave behind when you would not tell. It is not like I'd love to take your place, is it? But, why in heavens is it that you got another go before I do? I dug and buried, I heard thorough, I unhung stars, I fought memory, I dared for both. Fuck it! It indeed is always 'I, I, I.' I deserve it I reckon. You ought to reckon. Be mine not, yet reckon. Sweet tunes make it easier. These venting words make it easier. I am still walking far and away and wouldn't turn 'round since I want to not become a pile of salt.
You shivered me not. It is just that I am envious of that I saw, only if what I saw is what I think I saw on a sunny day at home.