Rambles

The sun rises as it usually does, why does it do that? Why does light ‘shine’?

There is sky that is clear- half bright, half dark.

The girl is in a daze; a flower is wound in her hair, an accident.

Country singing girl-next-door sings words of hope into her mind.

Life is for the living, the forgiving? Hopefully.

Crazy, crazy, girls do miss you. She’d like to be missed.

The world goes round and round, she won’t let their absence bring her down though.

She’s only crazy sometimes, like when the photograph of theirs sits in her wallet.

A bucket of coffee, black so that she can consume her portion of bitterness through her taste buds and  coffee beans rather than her mind and the sad, weathered strangers-or not so strangers.

The flowers fall into the bucket and she stirs,

Swirl, swirl, twirl then settle.

The purple of the petals releases syrup into the brown concoction as they melt into their new burning home.

Green, purple, yellow, swirl, swirl, swirl. 

Round and round again, the girl next door is still playing on the music machine that is her head.

White dresses set for a funeral dance around her head. Funeral? Wait, that’s not quite right.

In her head it seems quite right but her mind knows that it isn’t.

She understands, but she can’t articulate.