buying lines

you tell yourself not to want something.
- - so of course, you want it all the more.

it's cliche: we want what we can't have.

it's this familiar feeling
that the more i tell myself
not to look for/ expect this
the more i will.

i know my hopes are piling
and for that reason
i know they will fall.

because they always do.
because every situation is familiar and stale
(and apparently i was more jaded than i thought?)

i can't even stand to listen to myself...

hello self fulfilling prophecy, how are you?
why i'm fine thanks, glad you've invited me back
but of course, i've missed you. how long was it you were away?
o only a matter of weeks dear.

it's rediculous how much i think.
and then, when i should be thinking, when the moment is primed for premeditated thought, i become spontaneous.
and get myself in these places.

circular and redundant thought,
not to mention cliche
- it almost makes me sick.

you're going through the motions.
but there is still that nostaligic aftertaste in the back of my throat.
- the one that tastes like: "this will all fall apart"
(he'll run just as you start to see him clearly)

because just as soon as you start to want something
is about the time you don't need it anymore
or it doesn't need you anymore

or, is it that about the time you don't need anymore is about the time you realized you did, at one point not so long ago - need it.

but something in me says i still need this,
if nothing more i need insipiration.
if nothing less i need a reprieve from this empty/ numbness.

maybe i should just shut up. [ and stop thinking? ]
maybe.