The Proof of a New Sun


9. What the days do to me

Mondays are the hardest
You'd laugh at that usually
With one suggestive eyebrow
To make me roll my eyes 
Brimming with a laughter of my own
Mondays are like this I suppose 
Because I still 
Feel the ghost of you 
Like a puzzle piece in between my fingers

Tuesdays are numb
They are a day of people trying 
To keep me distracted 
But none more than myself
Tuesdays are this way because
There's still so much week left 
It hardly seems fair 

Wednesdays are monotonous & easily forgotten
However, they are also a relief
To see flutter past the window 
Wednesdays are like this because
They are the middle, the bridge
Between too long & not soon enough
I do not doubt you know the difference

Thursdays are the worst
They are laborious & drag on & on
As if they know I am to see you 
Once their time is up

Fridays are freedom
Short days followed by stretching glorious nights 
Fridays are like this because
Of you 
Of course because of you  

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