Cigarette in hand, hood overhead, Morning breaks in pain and dread.
A few more hours before my bed, Silent heart, helplessly bled.
Hurrying the day, wishing it away, Always the giver, nothing to convey.

I remain because no one stays, Trading Mondays for black Sundays. Their eyes on me when I’m alone, Wishing they'd come for coffee unknown.
Maybe it’s me, reasons unshown, Black Sunday forever my own.

My shattered soul, always concealed, Lurking in black Sunday’s rain revealed.
Behind a smile, sins undisclosed,
A pain that never feels composed.

Dec. 30, 2024