The Insatiable Hate of Thursdays

I don't have much to say here =)

I’ve always hated Thursdays

They used to mock me

Taking away all the things that made my days

           Pleasurable

Or at least that’s why I’d say

Then again Tuesday nights have never been much better

 

Way too good for over thinking

And making this empty headed

           Girl

Into someone made of booze

Who drowns sorrows in half shots of rum

And Kahlua

 

I’ve never been good out picking poisons

Or sorting out thoughts from prisons

I’ve gone through hundreds

           Of note books

With words scribbled about

Dangerous boys I let take my heart

                Throw it on the ground

                                And then stomp on it a few times

 

And yet in those hundreds of notebooks

There are no words written about how beautiful

A world locked away inside of walls can be

                At least it occupied my mind with clever stories

      And martyrs

So I could think a little less about what some people

                                Think of as

                Real

World

                Problems

 

Then again the real world problems

Of a high school girl

Are how many boys she’ll fall for

                And how many band aids she’ll have to

                                Pull off her heart

By the time she’s part of

                That society

Thriving off bad news

 

And by the time she is part of that world

Maybe she’ll understand why

They put fences around schools

                And lock down those thoughts

Scribbled in hundreds of spiral bound notebooks

 

Until she finds herself drowning out sorrows

With half shots of rum

And Kahlua

 

And maybe just maybe

By then she’ll know

Why she hates Thursday so much

 

Then again

Maybe I’ll never

                                Know

 

Author's Note

Everything is Intentional.