April showers in August.
My soul sparkles,
compliant and clean,
regrets washed away,
all the names I used to carve into my heart have been scraped off,
circling the drain,
crying out for one last chance,
but never making it past the fortress of my noise cancelling headphones.
The world has always been a strange place,
but today, it troubles me more than usual.
shop shelves apologetic and empty.
The roads are a rollercoaster of potholes and warped tarmac,
and it’s been too late for far too long for anything to change,
I suppose that my soul resurrecting like the redeemer isn’t so special,
but it means something to me anyway.
I wanted a clean soul for the last day of the show.
Nobody wants to die as a dirty girl.