free falling

I let go of my thoughts in a cloud of thick acrid smoke.
I try to catch them as they drift out my window, they always seem to find a way to escape,
I grab and grab and grab, but through my fingers they evaporate, sometimes...
sometimes they linger, for a moment reminding me of their pungent odour,
and just as I wonder why I want them back,
why i'm trying to stop them leaving, but then they're gone
and
I
miss
them.

Missing thoughts, where I wish I had more solutions, but I have none to give,
no help to offer.
Drained.
All I had to supply washed away, a whirl of dirty water down the sinkhole. Thoughts
where i find myself less and less intrigued by you, less in love, in need of a world of my own, away from you, them, the sun, the moon.
AWAY.
Away from problems I cannot fix and problems you dont even try to fix, the complaining gives you something to
do, to talk about.
In need of a world away from the constant put down,
away from speaking and never being heard.
A world where I am not more enamoured by the writing, the words, the mind of one I've never met,
than I am with you.
More understood, more heard, more accepted by this one I've never met
only read.
free falling through those words into...

And sometimes I'll lie very still, quietly waiting, pretending not to notice these thoughts
swirling around my head, enticing me with possibilities and then.
through my fingers... just like that, a lifetime of thoughts lost
until tomorrow.