If you wanted the sky

[thejunipertree]

In the car, wet and grey beyond the smeary
window. I huddle further into an old man's
tuxedo jacket that I've had since high school.
Tattered sleeves, tattered heart. Or something
like that, is how the song goes.

There's a party tomorrow night, political
karoke. I've been invited, but I'm still unsure
as to whether or not I'll go. Though bestowed
with a pleasant singing voice, I don't sing
in public places any longer. Too many eyes on me.
And in the mood that I'm already in, I don't
think I'd be able to take it.

Tonight, I dimly heard the words "The end of the
world has come and gone and Ze Monsta has slept
through it."

Ze Monsta, of course, is not my true name. Neither
was the name spoken. At least, not for today.
I'm not me today. I haven't been all week. I've
been the girl with bruised eyes, too many
cigarettes, and not enough sleep. I figure if I
drive myself to exhaustion, then my sleep won't
be troubled.

That's a joke.

I picked a fight with Richard today for no good
reason other than the fact that I was feeling
melancholy and full of myself. Not truly a
fight per se, because we don't really do that.
More like a little drama. I'm still feeling like
shit over it. It's not fair of me and I don't
know why I persist in doing it.

So, I thought about all of this in the Wee One's
car on the drive back home from the Sensitive
Artist's apartment. I stole that name for him
directly from the Wee One, please excuse my
plagerism.

I thought about it. I shivered in my coat. And
I realised that I've forgotten what it feels like
to be kissed.