Fickle

Tap, tap, tap on the glass encased window pane
Thinking entirely too much, inevitably too hard
Even an attention disorder couldn’t distract me now
Pulled in by fever of emotions and a hurricane of thoughts

As always, and you know it too
You’re the objection of this constant reflection
The Romeo to my Rosaline, the Lysander to my Hermia
I’ve already decided you’re much too fickle for me

The easiness of the chatter you drag with you though
It’s something that makes the tension melt away
Far beyond anything I could ever reach, even with more focus
Bells of laughter and the joking atmosphere is set

This reversion is all too simple, clean-cut
Soon we’ll be back to the past, present, future
Whatever they’re calling this nowadays
Soon I’ll realize the truth

Next week, tomorrow, the minute after this
As they say however, ignorance is bliss
I will make my self statuarily ignorant
To feel like I do now however temporarily