The world continues to push.
It’s like I’m still on night shift.
Laying around, getting shitfaced before work.
Old friends drop lines.
Some I wrap around my leg and plant my foot.
Others I let go, they only hinder my momentum.
This jump is a long one, challenging at least.
My mind working overtime.
Trying to kill the “old me”.
Pompous, self centered, uncaring.
Fidgeting, the fleas are hatched out.
The dog in me, scratching, shaking cobwebs.
I used to write about women.
Misguided concepts, fairy tale love interests.
They never worked.
Love is hard, brutal.
It’s arguments, stains, dirty dishes and dust.
Then she holds you tight and you realize.
It was always worth the while.