Sentimental Guy

As i sit here typing, like I've done a thousand times over
in a thousand different lifetimes
always post midnight
never after too large a meal
I keenly observe my delicately strategic spot

without a hint of pretension it greets
me
home and alone
at the wee hours of whenever
humming silently to the clever
strung along words of my most current five piece find

I'm more content here, than there

I'm always there though.
So that here is always better
So that here stays divine
not worn away by silly time
circle plots and connect the dots
that only form an outlined larger spot
to be connected, to god knows what

you know

this is ultimate freedom.
being plastered to my mind
flying through thought world at a thousand miles at a time
no police regulating rhyme, man

papers in disarray, dated back four years
clinging desperately to what once inspired tears
is off
off like a scrumptiously satiating soup on a scorching summer day
off like you now
off like me then
off.

in the life that loved him
in the life that missed her
in life and death, sickness, health
decrepit poverty and obnoxious wealth
I clung with every ounce of sincerity
to this spot.
That makes sense only because it makes no sense
that doesn't abide by the rules of tense

free to type away the night
stare a musing in the eye, not cower in fright
brainstorming this world's wirings
while imagining the next
I sit, ecstatic, via tangible text