Whispers that come in the night

Often carry further than those in the day,

And dreams wrapped in silk bedsheets

So frequently transfer into what will stay.

So while most men waste their nights

And darkness is so often used to destroy

Why don’t you use shades of the black

To paint a picture the whole world can enjoy....

Mr. Krispy. She always calls me that and it always rubs me the wrong way. “Krinsky” I say in my mind even though I’ve given up trying to correct her three months ago. She smiles at me a little differently today as her pig tales go bouncing by and I wonder if she’s finally catching on to how much it bothers me.

I need a better poker face.

But I know that already from half of my paycheck draining ...