Why can't you get this right?
Why do I slip
Down one-way, two-way, three-way streets
When you're at the helm of my mind?
I am unbalanced
I am chaotic
I am the definition of ambivalance
I only remember to forget
I only succeed after I fall
I chase oppurtunities
Met with slammed doors, too little too late.
I am organized under the stacks
And piles, and jumbles, and mounds
Of my mind palace
I avoid latters and open umbrellas indoors
I stumble pass doorways
And hallways and rooms
Wandering in search of something unknown.
I am superstitious
I am clumsy
I am the anomoly people write about in Dystopian Utopias.
You aren't perfect, that much is true
But I forgive you.
We can ameliorate this spurn
And extricate ourselves from convoluted caprices.
You aren't perfect
But you're mine
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Let's do this.