Just one more day.
One more chance to look in his eyes
And see the nothings there.
One more time to whirl around the metaphor
And tangle over silence.
One more time, one more chance
To slide on through the day.
I tried stopping this mad existence once.
The resentment echoed through the air,
Like sonic booms.
I felt them pierce my armor
Of indifference. Shoot.
What a waste of time.
But is it not even more a waste
Of encounters to hold silent?
And she, is she keeping something from me?
And he, is his resentment because of me?
And him. Is he acting once more?
Have I caused an infallible rift to come
Between the two nations governing?
I feel like a territory under them.
Governed by the mystery,
Governed by the suspense,
Tied up under fluctuating alliances and
My own civil war.
Just another day in the life
Of a passionate, theatrical/subtle territory.
Society's laws demand no treaties,
Or is that my own rule?
One more thing to worry about,
One more heavy burden to bear,
One more wasted sampling of time.
One more glimpse across a crowded room.
One more less-than-enchanted evening.
One More Day.