Thursday Night

I feel all too normal and average, 

and my Sappho inside me withers.

My bluebird lost its wings

I feel chopped off. 


My innocence is showing.

My stupidity is showing. 


I'm all curled up with my coffee cup,

and I just sobbed on the floor for hours. 


I get sad on Thursdays, around seven thrity. 


No matter how many times I tell myself not too,

I wonder if you do too. 



We don't talk face to face,

I like to imagine that we talk heart to heart.

I hear a song on the radio

and I think its you.

A noise in my room at night

and I hope its you.

The strangers I see at stop lights

I pray they're you. 

Its Thursday night again, and Im feeling blue.

I wonder often if you do too. 




Author's Notes/Comments: 

Haha, this is more like a diary entry than poetry. I just needed a place to air out all these ucky feelings (: thanks for reading, 

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allets's picture

Okay, Sad but

"I get sad on Thursdays, around seven thirty." made me chuckle. Well said! and welcome to - allets -