she woke up in denial, went to work with her anger, decided to change her life by lunch, then, when dinner rolled around, had given up on the idea of change completely, and on dinner. After she had cursed at the moon for being so romantic, she used up all her hot water, showering, but mostly thinking of rebuttals to conversations she had, had with co-workers earlier or where about to have, it pays to be prepared she would say.
She dried off un easy in her easy chair and listen to billy holidays ‘’All or nothing at All’’, ‘’but not for me’’ was her favourite song, she made sure to play it over twice, first time to enjoy the song, the second time to wallow’s in it. And when she had well and truly felt like crap, she had decided she ought to get to bed, after all she had to get up in 4 hours.
But lately someone had seemed to put rocks in her bed, which meant sleep would likely be not an option and she would likely be up late with talking with her thoughts. in this time she liked to sort out the clutter in her head, putting together perfect scenario’s that would end with her wealthy and famous, but more frequently she would seem together a story about a perfect man she could confide in, someone who will calm her down when angry and likes her the way that she is. She holds on to that story, no, she demands it.
Like most the morning brings no change, neither dose the next. The same album, the same time, with the same song and the same shower with the same hypothetical conversations. Day in and day out. She repeats this cycle for 7 months on and off with occasion brakes every now and then. after all, try as you might, you can’t be ******* 12 months a year.
At the end of the day, are satin doll is stuck in a cycle of shelf pity, and until someone comes along to tell her this or she realises her shelf, she will continue like this. A modern-day Sisyphus. Rolling a bolder up a hill only to have it roll back at the end of the day.
this is a variation to sophisticated lady poem i wrote before, i like this one better.
