A Few Minutes on Friday

She kills, with foreign films, the emptiness of day to day

And I wait until the weekend comes

So I can clear this uselessness from my brain

I count the days until she arrives

Those precious minutes when she is mine

As we walk from my front door to her car

We are so close and alone

But that will disappear in a room filled with the warmth

Of others company

There is too much company

I hide my wounded pride and stare off into the other cars

If I could just speak the words to tell her

Exactly how I feel

I count the ways that I might say it

But I know that none of them will work because

She won't feel the same

I've come this far

But I can't go through with it because the truth would hurt

Too much

This hurts too much

She goes back to the west coast to drink in the sunshine

And I will stay here in these dead plains

And try to make a seed grow

And I would pray for rain

If I thought that that would help