Flow

I drove this morning with the lonely day moon.
It hung sad without any stars to keep it company.
It reminded me of your eyes.
You throw them like beautiful bricks through the windows to my soul.
Your devil may care facade smiles like an aging actress.
It could use a facelift.
I yearn for an audience to hear my shouts.
But once I had one I don't think I'd know what to say.
It's good to have an optimist around.
I'm just so pessimistic about optimists, though.
I'm skeptical (jealous?)
It's hard to believe they're being genuine sometimes.
That's just my perspective taking over.
I guess attitude is a big part of how things turn out and being upbeat can probably only help.
This stream of consciousness has flowed through so many forests of fakes and dumped into too many lakes of lies to think of treading back against the current.
I'll remain content in a placid pond of lost thoughts.