Skip the end

Of the songs in my ipod, I skip.
And skip every time,
To get to that song, at that moment "I feel Like"
These skipped songs-I just know how they begin and that's it.
Have never cared to listen beyond that,
Never will.
But these songs will remain in my ipod still.

Of the books I leave incomplete...
Tough to read, too boring, With a weak protagonist,
Some written by that bong woman with the bad attitude,
And some with just far too many years of solitude.
I promise my head, I'll get back to this again.

Of the medicines they prescribe.
I buy them and feel better for a while.
But never take them.
Even if I do, I never complete the course.
And then I spot the same medicines lying with me,
When I get sick again next season.

Of the sentences I start but fail to finish,
For I doubt myself or you or the choice of words I'm to make.
Or that loud girl over there cuts me in between,
She has just too much to say
But I ignore to ignore her.

Of the chai I make in the middle of the night
Complete with basil, cardamom and ginger.
But I forget to drink it.
First sip and oh "It's gone all cold."
My perfect chai grows old!

Of the various lessons I take,
swimming, guitar, driving, yoga.
And can't ever be consistent.
Don't even get to know when I just stop....
I Just stop and justify it in my subconscious somehow.

Of the weedy drags I take...
Do nothing just mouth-fag.

Of my million scribbles of stories
I never think about enough...

Of me and love. Such an unfinished business that.
Of our love for all things new.
The times you'd say "I'll never hear the end of this".
Or the times I'd dance to "Dance me to the end of love"
But wouldn't dance enough.
Take your hand and leave it sooner than planned,
for the longer it is, the more it would hurt- the end

Of all the unsaid things; unuttered silence of two pair of eyes.
Eyes that weren't sure,
Eyes not meant to stare at each other
For meaningless crushes, time is the only cure.
Many years later, I may disclose.

Of the characters in my head I'm too scared to give voices to...
For if I did, the voices will dupe me into a madness new..
The new will start and will have an end...

I see dreams
Dreams of endings; happy, sad, bloody, violent and blackly comic.
But these are nightmares to me!
I like the other ones; the disrupted, the incomplete dreams.
I don't know how they ended...whether they ever would've,
Had my sleep not been broken.
I live with these dreams,
Live with the dream to see these dreams again;
As dreams or reality or something hybrid.
Walk the rope between dream and real; the realm.
Skip this rope.
Skip the end.

I am ashamed that I don't control the end.

Of Life, of stories, of people, of planes, of love.

End of this time and the next.

End of lines, end of games- snakes and ladders, ludo and twisted text.

End of thoughts, end of words, end of places and species of insects yet to be discovered.

I'm swallowed whole by this inertia of motion of life, of pace.

End will spoil it.

I'm restless...

I want to skip the rope.

Realm.

Can't I just skip the end.

Is this an end too.