Poker face

I am tired. And I am not even finished yet. At this particular moment. A little lonesome. Lovesome. Etc.
Yea. So I made a decision yesterday. To try to take back control. Hard. Taxing. Tiring. And I don't even know why I am doing it. I think I want to stop thinking about whys. For a little while.
Still roaming around in my shoes.
Being haunted is bad. By lines. Faces. It's scary. I want out. Stop. Even colours. And leaves.
Sisters. Visitorless days. A heaviness of the heart. Of the soul. Sometimes. They say. When you cry much. And your eyes hurt. Because you're not letting them cry with the rest of you. The soul moans. It absorbs all the tears. And finally it cries. And gives birth. To another soul. Then it always rains. But stones are prisons. Trapping in themselves many souls. Till the rain wears them out. And the souls scatter away in ten different directions.
I wish. That I wouldn't wish. But I keep wishing.
Do you ever get that feeling. That it's no use. Do you?
Zinger burgers are not bad. But I always thought KFC fries the chicken a little too deep.
Slept two hours yesterday. That makes seven hours in the past three days.
I have realised. Sometimes. When you really feel it. You don't have to think about it. You don't even have to care. About the fretboard or the strings. You just keep feeling. And listening to your soul. Rain always helps. To keep time.
I want to sleep. I can't sleep. Closing my eyes is a poker draw. Sometimes it's a blank valium sea. With me floating around in the middle. Other times I find myself on a carousel. That keeps going round and round. Till I fall off. Still awake. And hurting. I was never good at poker. They say I can't keep a straight face. Of course, you do know poker is played with faces, don't you? I always lose.
Nah. I let you win. Just for the face of you.

PS: Sorry. I am thinking in short sentences again today.