Monday Morning
I wake and wonder if today'll be a blunder,
if the spell I've been under will resurface or sunder.
The fact of the matter is the fog has been closing
and I'm choosing to let it with an effortless air.
To bring flares on a road trip or prepare for the boat
life jackets are just as restricting as hope
and flares can be dangerous even with good intentions
while the rules I once set are now constantly bending.
The straight line I once drew looks more sinusoidal
as long as it doesn't end up as a circle that traps in the bad
and keeps out the good and litters my life with no flames and just soot.
I've slammed and slammed my head and my foot on the floor and
I'm running down hallways of once open doors and looking for a window
or ladder to descend but the descent has been made
now I can't make the grade to myself I am Sade.
and while I'm suffocating I look down to my neck and just see my own hands.
Well I must be so full cause life gave me lemonade.
