its not you its me

he catches sundrops as they trickle off leaves and gerber petals in his hands and rubs it into his skin as a cure all for all that he thinks about to himself, selfish amongst the wordsmiths comprised internally, the deviation for which one should speak in majority, which one is called upon.or none. Does his silence speak for him or is in a shout in muffled ear a congested heart, and a forgetful mind. expires the times of wondering why and renews his sense of carelessness to his own heart. to be careless of how its chooses to love, as it struggles to regain a conscienceness about all the things it once believed all the things that made its cheek muscle contract in such a why that it exserts happiness , if it could actually do such a thing if it could actually be fearless to the bullies upstairs and be passionate with itself. when it decides to write what is it trying to say it that all that it once proclaimed if its fiction or the opposite or is he just dumb enough to believe in himself because with his fools ambition he continues to write feel love and fall as the only machine driven through his propetual emotion