SUNDAY: TIE ME UP AGAIN
The bright stars are rudely burning my eyes
And that cherry sunset sky is badly rotting
The moon frowns back in a dulled disguise
When my soul finds life severely disappointing.
MONDAY: YOU COULD FILL ME IN
I dial the knobs and tune to your station radio
And once upon a time, I heard melodic music
But your airwaves changed into a distorted audio
And now all I hear is a dinning unpleasant static.
TUESDAY: I’LL BE FINE WITH IT
I shoot my bullet kiss through a small shaky dime
Held between your teeth and trembling fuchsia lips
An inch more, a heart-less, and you might’ve died
But are you glad, my dearest love, that I’ve missed?
WEDNESDAY: I KNOW HOW TO SWIM
Call my arctic cloudy hopes dangling overhead
But it’s raining storms, a cumulonimbus crying
And I’m left shivering, sneezing, badly drenched
Rendered sick by my own coldest falling optimism.
THURSDAY: SEND A HURRICANE TO ME
These playground games are no longer fun
The red metal swing set is creaky and rusted
Empty staccato of children shouting as they run
From a happy childhood long past evanescenced.
FRIDAY: SINKING NEVER FELT SO SWEET
Fade in, fade out, show of just another sfumatic spectre
Blending in the vestiges, blending in the damp colours
Fade in, fade out, fade until I turn into an invisible grey
Waiting for the day I fail to reappear and completely fade away.
SATURDAY: STUCK IN YOUR UNDERTOW
Bobbing against the deepest aquamarine waters, float, sink, float, sink, float, sink, float
Submerged into an abyssal trench of disconsolence, hanging barely by a splintered boat
Drown, gasp, struggle by the waves, yet in the end I curl into a peaceful ball and sink slowly
And accept the pressure that crushes my weakened lungs as I drift in undertows of melancholy.