Her hair falls over
She parts it like the sea
Giving way to one of her eyes
Strangers stare when she can't see
The night was short in the worst ways possible
Her sleep drifted away from her faster than she could fall into it
And she awoke to the muted morning light
On a Saturday aching for more sleep
There was paint and there were brushes
And she dabbed them all over the fatigue
Just 30 minutes before leaving
Strangers stare when she's fatigued
She relies on him like coffee
Hoping it'll get her through the day
she should've known after spilling it just minutes before leaving
That they'd become strangers in some way
There was no clean up
Only a puddle of a wasted crutch
She couldn't help but follow and yell after him
"Do you ever bother to fix things or do you always leave in a such a rush?"
