I have bad days.
Disrupted.
By the pleasures that have
Escaped my heart.
I have bad days.
Marginal.
In its existence to indifference and
The insufferable thoughts of the other.
I have bad days.
Plagued with the goodness of a salted spirit,
Casted away to a depth only known by those
Who’ve drowned and understand it.
I have bad days.
Missed in a way that cannot be reconciled,
But is forever tainted by the comfort
Of the voice, love in the touch.
“I have bad days.”
Quoted by many,
Truly felt by few,
Understood by none.
I have bad days.
I thank you for the bad days,
For I know what it is like to feel bad.
I have bad days.
In hope that my night will soon be joyful,
As I dream and wish upon the stars.
I have bad days.
Hoping I will soon cease,
Repeating myself.
I have bad days.
More than you can
Imagine.
