The deepest struggles I face
Creep up on me on days that
I am alone.
I don't mean lonely, it's not isolation
In a morose
'I have no friends'
Woe is me rhetoric
It's the days in-between
From what place to another
Or away from where I should be
For one boring reason,
Or another.
It's the days that go nowhere
When time doesn't stand still
More, it just doesn't exist at all
The day just happens.
The hourglass is empty, but not broken.
Boundless and see through.
Day time television on sick days.
That's a good metaphor for this.
Largely pointless, polite enough to pass
But no one chooses to watch it.
It's background noise on days
that don't mean the same as
any other twenty four hours.
Music doesn't touch me the same
On days like this
It becomes wallpaper to the gloom
and grey area and bored shame of this
nothingness.
My lover's lyrics, masterful melodies
And tunes that break the sound barrier
Open mosh pits and circulate trapped
feelings
They just don't land.
It's all out of place.
Close the door on your way out.