call her green for the children who've made her
i always feel there's something melancholy about tuesdays.

it's all painted green today. a weak, soft, tint of green enshrouds my landscape, my brain, my fears, my stuff, my prayers.
it's not cold, just sort of tuesdayish.

tea, green. eyes, green. sky, green. heart, green. regret, green. breasts, green. painkillers, green. love, green. radio, green. asphalt, green. womb, green. hope, green. god, green. tuesday, green.

melancholy lends itself well to lethargy. i could fall into a lull, knowing that today will soon end, the night will blot out all this green, and tomorrow will be wednesday.
not today. not tonight. i'm going to finish this tea and make yellow and blue.

little green, have a happy ending.