the truth about the weekend

it is friday.

but you didn't need me to tell you that.

you've had friday scratching at your door all week,

while monday dripped down the back of your neck like an ice cube

and tuesday perched on your shoulder and pecked at your ears

and wednesday layed down and died beneath you, so you had to find a new way to get to thursday,

thursday, which seemed like it'd never come--and when it came, like it'd never leave.

but it did and here we are

and tomorrow, somehow, it will be monday again.

because saturday and sunday don't really exist.

because we just pretend they do so we don't go crazy.