Today was sucked into another day. You could think it a new day if you allowed yourself to be fooled. You could believe its lie, let it tell you its gauzy seductions, like, “I promise I’ll change, I’m not the day you think I am, I’ll show you something shiny and bright.”
But I’ve seen days like this come and go. And there all the same, They promise you something in the morning then leave you and run off with someone else an hour before last call. They’re hussy days. Easy to spot the cheap cracked makeup and frayed cuffs. Well I’m not buying, and I’ll set no expectations.
What I want is a real day. A brand new day, and something far more substantial than the one Sting sang about. With Sting it always comes down a blush of adolescent crush/love. “You’re the tunnel, I’m the train.” Please! If it wasn’t for Stevie Wonder’s harmonica I’d…
No until some dawn sneaks up on me and surprises the venetian blinds off my house, I’m saying screw it. I’m not going to try make something of my day…like I ever could. I’ll let the day jerk me around and I won’t feel it cause I’ll make myself limp. That much I can control.
… … …Okay, maybe there’s a problem here. Maybe it’s kinda like this:
