Eternal Sunshine of an Ignorant Mind

I think I know, finally, what it means
to die; death, methinks is a state of bliss
of unrestrained thought, the mind it cleans
the memories of life, all puke and piss

staying with me, for times we lived, her
face, her chest, her mind; the little
ways her self is peeved, at the seemingly
small behind.

What i don't know but claim i do, is
a woman's mind in all its glory, the maze
so deep so all but few, can get the gist
of the story.

I know the boundless sky witholds, the magic
and mysteries of how we came, the answer
we pretend to know it moulds
a child's mind, a collective shame.

I thought I knew what music meant,
Beethoven and Mozart were my shrink,
but they are dead and instead i rent,
songs that can really use a drink.

Even friendship i realized isn't benign, it is
more like a broken mirror, it shines, reflects
and shows you a sign, the horrors of your life,
that honest killer.

It bothered me once that I didn't know much, and
maybe i will never, for all my strife, but now
i let my skin the sunshine touch, and gloriously pretend
that I live a life.