Felt the urge

26 Aug

Untitled

If each day is a gift
It comes with strings attached
To waste time
Is to spit on the cashmere
Your grandma saved all year
To buy for you.

Your mornings smell like yesterday’s coffee grounds. So?
Run water through it again and
Pretend it’s a cappuccino.
Everyday is a precious jewel.
You must polish it
Although the setting is cracked
And the stone is too big for it.
There’s no exchanges. And there’s no excuse

For the sour taste in your mouth.
Roll the gritty sand on your tongue
And spit out a pearl.

Sadness is a double-edged sword.

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