I'm not with it today
I feel I'm spread too thinly
But I hear successful ones cry
Yeah, do that, Love
But I'm not solid enough
When I'm lied out at my usual thick consistency
What makes you think I can handle this?
Well, I am a self-proclaimed artist
And I claim to be well versed
And so many of those I associate with splendor say
Oh yeah, just juggle something else- in time your hands will move without even thinking
Then you can do some lovely tricks, dear
But now I am faced with some swift, sweeping destiny
Those above me, who've passed the place I'm now in shout
Ey Kid, Don't make my mistake
You'll get yourself all worked up
And overwhelmed
And then, baby-
You'll hate everything.
And I mean everything!
I hope not to hate anything
Though it's already too late, I suppose
I'll talk to her
She with the face of familiarity and an air of artistry
She who seems a Bonnefeti, like beloveds of mine
I know she'll know better than all the other passer-by's
She gives me the sense of the others
My stars who guide my fate and future
I could see her among them
She has the same smug smile, after all.
But I'm not nearly that bright today.
I'm greasy and grey and tired and tethered
God almighty
It's time already
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