in the bold here and now

Darkness brings sleep to those red and blue eyes,
relieving the evening shift.
Tears and sugar hit crisp new pages
until there's no light left in the world.
Yesterday came in a baggy disguise,
giving the routine a facelift.
Four days pass quickly; the next day takes ages.
Flat irons get frustrated by these natural curls.

Something like sixteen chairs stand by
for a total of maybe five people,
telephones ringing in the air and our ears.
Small talk, or no talk at all.
For some reason, I feel you need these words of mine.
Cuts become infected for these germs to sink in deeper
so I know these are words youwill never hear,
but I wish it had been otherwise, before I took the fall.

If there's one thing I've learned it's that tomorrow still blossoms
whether you're alive to see it or not.
I guess I screwed up a time or two more than I was allowed.
I guess you really did too.
Raindrops plummet with hail raging across them.
How many lives have we got?
I guess it's Armageddon in the bold here and now.
I guess the curtain fell for you.