Something Nice

Long days, dripping with sweat and resentments.  I'd rather be on a beach without either, but I am an adult with adult responsibilities completely lacking of affordable downtime. 
One thing I want is a form of comfort in one verse or another; one tone or another; one word or another. Tell me something nice please.
Tell me something as cliche as "Everything will be alright",  because even that will have me look up. Wipe the sweat from my brow and ask why do I feel that working so hard towards a goal I can't touch is my journey?  Tell me something as nice as "Tell me something nice".
But words like "I give up on you" or harsh moments of desperate silence seem to finish those sentences of wondering what exactly did I do? In those words "WHAT DID I DO"
For you to consider me regrettable
For you to consider me forgettable
For you to consider me umentionable.
But when that fan hits some shit I'm the first person to come to mind to clean up the mess you're responsible for. How convenient for you to claim no blame but watch me attempt to make it better and point while saying "I got her".

I'm a fool.

Dear Indigo

My dear indigo child, ageless on your aging yet wise in all wisdom. If we could all be like you! Regardless of things maybe worth regarding, you were quick to disregard the regarding of your regards because you disregarded them! Such bravo and courage and courage and bravo. Bless us all with your continuation of the road less traveled.  I admire you.  Happy birthday Victoria! 
Love,  your cousin

Heart and Art

All this trouble I've been seen and I've squandered all opportunity to write it down. Instead I chose to have pointless conversations with pointless people with pointless answers because they are pointless people. "I promise that this bottle is the last one" while on my way to remake the same promise with another last bottle. 

Brown eyed posessed

Oh the case I have, its almost deterrent. If I could maybe be the cold fool you fall for? This would be easy. But these foolish eyes and constant sorry's keep me looped in endless empathy that catch me in forever maybes of stories bought in pharmacy stores. 
Everyday I ask what is it if its worth it but as soon as I hear soothing words of something that I can't exactly make sense of I turn dumb. Emotionally.
Who am I? I am I living when I love what I love.  A person who understands who makes me likely to care. Who moves me like like a potter with in my frame work and melds comfortably until I break as a broken pot of clay. I'm looking for my glue.
Wishes are made while dreaming, therefore as I dream my wish is for you and your joy. Nothing less but certainly more, even if more equals the minus of me plus the affect of an equal or more individual, which would result in a complete you. You and your brown eyes.