Beautiful Days.

These beautiful days,

they pass me by,

and all I feel is empty.

Uninhabited.

Bare.

A deserted town.

A roadside carcass.

A defunct mall.

These beautiful days,

find me trapped inside

a gilded cage.

Sunken.

Hollow.

Aimless.

A bird clipping at her own wings,
waiting for the next toss of grain.

Tick, tock.

Cuckoo when the clock turns

3…4…5…

Drive.

These beautiful days,

they come and go.

Like holes in my memory.

Marks on my calendar.

Pics in my phone.

Posts on the Gram.

Coffee stains on my

ripped up jeans.

One day I'll catch one.

Keep it all to myself.

Never letting go

for fear
of never
catching one
just like it
Again.

Repeat.

How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your shit on the kitchen table?

Especially on a day like today.

These beautiful days.