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.