Did you ever have one of those days when nothing went right?
It’s as if there is a Greek chorus rolling around your brain.
And it’s not funny, and it’s not healthy as your well-being leaves you in the lurch.
She was covered in somebody else’s blood, but she assured me she hadn’t hurt anyone.
I didn’t know what to think because we didn’t have a mop or even enough paper towels to soak up all of this red paint.
She called me her anti Boy Scout because I never seem prepared to handle anything as I fell to pieces and wished I was by myself listening to Patsy Cline or Jim Reeves.
Did you ever have one of those days when the music inside your head begged you to let it out so it could play like all the other kids?
Sometimes we cry for no reason while other times we know exactly why our eyes are welling up with the tears of the misdiagnosed and misaligned.
And it’s hardly funny when nothing makes sense and all you feel like doing is crawling back inside your hermit crab shell and calling it a day and a night as a symphony of hurt washes over you like blades of prickly, uncut grass.
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