Silver thimbles hung on twiddle thumbs
On guitar strings strumming goodbye songs.
Uncover the lost messages in this puzzle game
As I spew out metaphors of this heartfelt strain.
Wrap me over your shoulders as I hang on tight,
Like a baby girl sleeping in soft blankets delight.
Nourish my wounded ego with salted teardrops
Avoid crossing the lines and running red light stops.
We have to make it. We gotta get there.
But how does that saying go, “life’s not fair?”
inspired by singer-songwriter mitski’s song first love/late spring.