“Trey?” the voice pulled me out of my daydream of being a
contestant on So You Think You Can Dance.
“It is Trey? Your name tag says so,“ an old lady asked and confirmed with her old
husband standing in front of the register of YoguLand. They stared at me as if I was a zoo
animal. “Do you have anymore chocolate sprinkles?” the man said with
frustration. “If there aren’t any out there, I guess not,” working at a self-serve
yogurt place was one of my least favorite jobs (I rank it 5th out
the 5 I have), but it was easy. “What the hell is the point of having you if
you don’t do anything?” the man grumped (can you grump?). It was a good
question. “We’ve got chocolate chips, sir,” I didn’t really care. I was thinking
about my Netflix queue. “You’re a bit old to be working here,” the woman
sassed. I drifted off to the radio playing YoguLand. Ah yes, The Best
of Michelle Branch was still going. “You’re
everywhere to me Michelle,” I thought. “Hello! Can you weigh our yogurt?”
the man was yelling. I don’t like yelling very much. I’m sure it wasn’t going
to make him happy either that I realized the scale was broken. “Trey, where is
your manager?” the woman said as if that was supposed to scare me. “I am the
manager, ma’am, Trey,” I grinned. The
old man got pissed and slammed his yogurt down grabbing his wife storming out. I
went back to singing passing the time. Yogurt isn’t supposed to be that
serious.
I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.
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