Scatter Brained.

Why do we do the things we do? Take me to the edge of the ocean so we can swim, where the water is extra salty. Let's make the air move the way we want it to. And though, our thoughts cannot be consumed by desired minds, we'd rather take joy in that frustration. Boastful or not, we'd all like to believe that there is some good left. The colors of your shirt, and the crystals in your eyes, are just too damn bright. My personal sea is moving my way, and the sand is falling from your fingers. I'd rather find what I never had, in you. So you'd rather push every partical away, than to be struck by it's beauty? That's exactly what you're saying, my dear. So I'll edge away from any guidelines, and push back what was never there. Honest pain is great beauty, and a rarest of each and every line. I don't want to hang on the thinest of thread. I don't want to become what you were. Seeing a path that has been done, is never enough to keep one from drifting down it. Or running to it.
I've only hung empty picture frames, they don't need memories.