deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tuesdays
You sit on that same bench every Tuesday
It's that routine that gets you
An endless cycle of watching and waiting
And smiling at the wind that never smiles back
Of repeating your last words again, on Tuesday
Are you really taking these feelings that your unfortunate mind stumbles upon into account? It's Tuesday
Another day of living hypocrisy
And suddenly, you notice yourself
Like the scent before a storm
The wind is blowing
There's no shelter big enough to contain what you claim to be empty
There's no ocean deep enough to drown the things you say you killed
But you'll keep searching until you feel what it's like to be filled again
And fantasizing the pain of sinking
As you gasp for more air
You're wishing this cycle would end
You're telling yourself this week is finally it
Only to come again next week
We'll see you soon, on Tuesday
It's that routine that gets you
An endless cycle of watching and waiting
And smiling at the wind that never smiles back
Of repeating your last words again, on Tuesday
Are you really taking these feelings that your unfortunate mind stumbles upon into account? It's Tuesday
Another day of living hypocrisy
And suddenly, you notice yourself
Like the scent before a storm
The wind is blowing
There's no shelter big enough to contain what you claim to be empty
There's no ocean deep enough to drown the things you say you killed
But you'll keep searching until you feel what it's like to be filled again
And fantasizing the pain of sinking
As you gasp for more air
You're wishing this cycle would end
You're telling yourself this week is finally it
Only to come again next week
We'll see you soon, on Tuesday
Published 12th Jul 2017
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