Took Gor Granted

The sky is the sky; the sea is the sea. And treetops remain one of my favorite things. Breaking into the palette of the afternoon sun. In all these things I love — you hold no sway. Puts into perspective how skewed I feel around you. Begs to ask why I am so affected by your unwitting words. You don't paint the sky its sky blue. You can't call the rise of the oceans' tides. You don't command tree limbs to stroke crepuscular rays. The sky remains the sky. The sea remains the sea. And canopies of great trees will continue to greet the warmth of the fading light. In all these things — you hold no sway. But its seems after all, getting hurt is one of my favorite things. Breaking into the lines of rational thought and sanity