I took a picture of this,
I knew when I took it that this was it,
And something touched me.

It’s anchored in the ground,
And it doesn’t move you till the parsimony cuts you down,
And nothing warns you like the first line.

Your reflection looks at you,
And accuses you of nothing new,
And on Monday morning it’ll hurt you so.

When it hurts you so,
When your world’s going crazy,
And you don’t know
If you’re coming or going,
Don’t look now but you don’t know that half of it baby.

What takes your breath away,
Is how your day turns and single moments eviscerate,
All your contemplation leaving raging emotion.

The sun smells when it dawns
And the sky moons you when it rains,
You’re lost and scared, tired, mad, bad, sad & wicked.

And what you touched before,
Seems so stale that when you take it,
Nothing irks you more,
Than the things that never mattered before.

When it hurts you so,
When your world’s going crazy,
And you don’t know
If you’re coming or going,
Don’t look now but you don’t know that half of it baby.

As the moment comes around,
Your resolve hits the ground,
You’re itching and squirming,
Screaming on the inside, but quietly.

And everything hits base,
And the universe clicks in place,
And you don’t know why but it hurts you so.