slow words

cramps in my fingers, damn. i want a renaissance kind of realism in every day life. i want a skewed perspective that makes me see far. maybe even an airplane to fly you and you and you and you to me. that'd be good. i miss feeling certain, but when was i ever sure. drop down to the point of optionless flawlessness... but of course only considering these circumstances. i want you to figure out my riddles because you already know what i'm saying when i can't find the words that fit right... when i can't find any words at all. connected brains and finding people that you can call home. i see skyscrapers out my window. i see garbage in the streets. i can make myself feel whatever i want, most of the time. i wish for simplicity this one god given time. circulate some fresh air throughout your life, finding what makes you weak because maybe those are the things that can make you happy. that sinking feeling is steps away from my doorstep, and your unanswered days seem less important when i work for myself. an unreliable, maybe dangerous, maybe rash dream is still a dream nonetheless. these are still dreams no matter what anyone says.
"what're you doing today? waiting for you to call."