Trash Talking

You indicated I don’t listen. I respectfully disagree. I hear you. I just don’t like what you have to say. Pretending to ignore you takes tremendous effort. Quick to dismiss that which emanates from a source other than your own lips – and it’s not like you’re the only one who likes to hear himself talk. Trying to sleep never should be undertaken. That’s why we fall asleep. There’s no effort. Fall’s inevitable. There’s a season for everything. But this one’s short lived and seemingly doesn’t come as often as it used to before global warming and other major concerns evidently. … thinking about our earlier discussion makes me wish I lacked lips and that the cliché about going in one ear and out the other was more literal than figurative. I figure eventually this noise will QUIET DOWN! so that trying morphs to falling and dreamless sleep supplants the constant drone of something terribly wrong. Panic attacks that neverend or seemingly seem so prior to this pillow talk – a case for a better container: containment is key. It turns out that my point of entry always my biggest nightmare. Big is such a small word. I wish it was more attentive of its status as an anomaly – just a monosyllabic monstrosity of awfulness. B-I-G A word so tiny even toddlers master its annunciation. BIG! From that which is so small. If I said I forgave you it would be nothing but a lie but you would not apologize anyway. So all this talk is trash. Be the big one. Say you’re sorry. Just refuse for another Pronouncement of lackluster underachievement. My comfort zone. I’m sorry. Yet again.