Thursday, July 16, 2009

God Blessed This Mess

Friends gone for the weekend
Or the week

Unscheduled trips to other towns
And outer space

The sound of your own thoughts
Silencing themselves
Like the proper instructor

A split second
Before you were ready to say:
Fuck it
Fuck it all
And then some

The temporary goal
Left unaccomplished
On the cusp of becoming
Something ignored
By the general public

Poor sound quality
Throwing you off balance
Even at night

The girl you didn't bother to talk to
Posing unattractively online
With the person

You expected her To be posing with
Thinking about
And getting over the next morning

The songs that have dried up
Meaning what they meant
And then getting personally defunct

The things left unsaid
That are so much better that way

The thought of work tomorrow
And how much time we can all kill before then

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