she has her days.

the back door was left open at the temple tonight. red velvet chairs all connected at the base. scattered occupants waiting for a word. from god, from a man, from who? i don't know either. the boy in the third row wants to know. his eyes look lost. i shake my head and keep on walking. i don't have your word, boy. today is one of my bad days.

i tap my toe on the concrete to keep time. but i miss you. and because it's a bad day i don't know what i think about time. if i could cheat it, i would. if i could slow it down or make it go a little faster; or if i only had all the time in the world. how do i make peace with this? this ever moving force that i can neither forget nor predict. and right now i'm sitting in it. just sitting. sitting, when all i want to do is jump. leap, even. but i'm scared. and i want you there. what if there's no one there to leap with me? and so i tap my fingers on my heart to keep it going. it's just one of those days.

if i go to bed early enough it might make it stop. but it doesn't. i've slept on a soaked pillow for weeks now. and still i'll have to wake up, and remember to breathe in and out. but i don't think i'm doing a good job these days. at living. my room is cold. cold enough to let me know that i am lying here. cold enough to feel. and the darkness. the darkness might as well swallow me, because i can't see where it ends. the glow-in-the-dark constellations above me are fading. five minutes with the light on and they'll last another hour, give or take. today was a bad day. and going to bed early was a bad idea. because there's that time thing again. and i'm just lying in it. not to mention that it's cold enough to feel. another night and i'll curl up beside myself, pillow soaked. tomorrow is another one of my bad days. i can tell.

i don't have your word, boy. not today. wait for the good ones. sit a while. she has her days.