Don't Make Sense to Me

''Oh, what can I do? Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue. Sun and ocean blue, their magnificence,
it don't make sense to you.''

The toxicity of that burdening presence. 

Something inexplicable.

Sun and ocean blue. 

Prolonged absences of what was known and what has been.

It was all beautiful, all magnificent, making sense without thought.

A simpler version of me. 

Diversion of what was never chronic. Now so fierce. Far away. Explanation: breathless. Screaming at you that I can't saunter through this alone. Stand by me, blazing guns. We can shoot it down. We can shoot it down. I promise. 

You have said this before. Littler body expanding. Same broken head. 

It keeps asking you--ha-ha--if you'll ever figure it out.