it’s over 90 degrees out,
but i’m cold as ever here in this room.
maybe it’s the AC,
maybe it’s the lack of humanity.
maybe it’s the hopeless reality.
why does the heart want
what doesn’t make sense?
how does it know if it’s right?
my gut tells me one thing.
my heart tells me the same thing.
but my mind holds onto the other thing.
the thing that keeps me singing
this sorrowful song.
the thing that makes me wonder
why it is I don’t feel too good.
why the nights last short
and the days go on and on.
this short wave of negativity,
isn’t too bad.
“is this my cue?”
“is this my calling?”
and my person forces
me to speak to you.
and that’s my cue.