Thoughtlessness.

The croaking of the frogs is ringing through my ears as I lay in the middle of the street.

The dull glow of the moon was the only thing I could see.

A starless night like no other and I couldn't help but think the sky felt just as empty as me.

It was one A.M. and I can't remember if I was just wasting time or if I was actually bothering to think for once in my life.

The half a year I wasted felt like an eternity and I don't remember what it was like before.

I don't think things will ever return to that normal they once were.

Normal is now thoughtlessly listening to music as I write anything that goes through my head, and when it's all finished I go to read it weeks later I try and remember what I was thinking about but the answer is always the same.

I was thinking about nothing.

Why do I write?

What causes my disgusting inspiration?

The feeling in my heart when I can't see you?

The emptiness I have when nothing is alright but I can smile anyway?

I guess I am thinking now.

I'm thinking but it's three A.M. so I guess I took too long, staring at the starless wonderland.

I'm thinking about a lot of things.

Everyone tries so hard to be an individual but in the end that all makes us the same.

I dragged a stool out of the house, I was tired of soiling my clothes. Kind of like how you were with me.

What makes people think?

You were thinking.

Not about the right things.

But what are the right things?

The right things are the one that get you out of trouble?

The ones that make you different?

I can hear the sound of a plane flying overhead, and what I thought to have been the lone star was nothing more than a thoughtless hope.

Was I thoughtless because I was wrong?

Or was I thoughtless because I thought with emotion.

Another sound taken my senses in its grasp, it's a creak that surrounds me and I can't figure out if it's from my imagination because I'm craving for anything else to cut through the now deafening silence.

I'm picking at the burn on my finger from playing with fire and I know fire can tear away at your skin leaving just raw flesh and it completely bear.

It takes away everything that was used to protect you naturally.

The most raw form of you is so different from your protected self.

I am raw, but I was once protected.

I was pure but I played with fire. I guess this is where thoughtlessness gets you.