the off days

this revolving door
keeps spinning
i push
heavy on the date
that turns the on days
off.
you scoff
at my reflection
not to mention
the attention
we are opposites
at odds
cross wedges
as we turn
at equal pace
a constant race
without a win
yet still we spin.

three days
the sun shines in
watch through glass
too quickly pass

its dark inside
the off days.

searching for ways
to kill this curse;
just makes things worse.

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