Sometimes you never know where these days are going to go. Sometimes they bring you up. Sometimes they take you low. A grave day is the first not the last is the only one in which you know where you’re going. The rest are a mess of a life all straightened up, cleaned up, going up, fall down, breaking down. It’s the process from beginning to end to beginning to middle to never to forever to whatever sees it passing does nothing. Affects nothing. We go on with decisions we make trying never to look back when in reality we know we messed up one time, two times, all the time. We cover. We meddle. We peddle back and forth just trying to stay up, but when it falls we always crumble, in whose hands? We’ll never know. I’m in a different place than you are even though you see my feet, they are not grounded in the same place you are. Tomorrow is a different day than tomorrow is for you. It’s a fact to face but could you ever know it even if it stares you in the face? I can’t pretend anymore even though it grabs me by my hand and begs me not to say a word. I’m not faking, I’m not forsaking, I’m simply taking what is mine. What you want to be mine. What’s mine is yours. But what’s yours is not mine. That’s the way it goes I guess. I give, you live. You take, I mistake you for someone I once knew.
- Jessica Mary
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