#moansday

The grass is so green and the sky is so blue and the sun is so bright and it’s all I’ve wanted for ages so why does it feel like it’s mocking me like it’s all some big joke in which I’m the punchline? Why is it sneering at me to go run home crying to my mam? Why does the thought of Tom Jones warbling along to a breezy beat backdropped by glitzy gold curtains to a room of old biddies in pearls make me want to sink to my knees and weep? Bronzed curls bounce on shoulders and I droop further still, no spine to zip me back up into place