The blue sky is obvious, just like the green grass or a grey pebble.
The red that lines your eyes is obvious, just like the cracks in your lips.
The dirt embedded beneath the nails is obvious, just like the red of the roses you plant.
It’s obvious to me, the mental taxing and emotional drainage, the dead cells that hold you down.
You’re sinking in your own self pity, drowning in your selfishness.
It’s obvious to me.
You flail about, quickening the descent. In desperation you build, only to watch your anchors fall.
The self destruction is obvious as painful as it is to watch.
Obvious but necessary,