Midnight blues, keeps on calling :: SOTD

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Keep Art Alive :: “Już tylko cisza” :: Art by Wlodzimierz Kuklinski

I just can’t help but feel a little bit shamed,
every time I hear you calling my name.
I’m blaming you for all the bad things I’ve done.
Still, I will admit that every once in a while,
it was fun.”

Laney’s past midnight life, some might say it had gotten away from her, or gotten the better of her, or one of those judgey, said with a wag of the finger and squinted eyes kind of sayings, all mixed up with the folly of youth and a heaping dose of “she should have known better.” How exactly was she to know better, Laney wondered, when there were no teachers, or hell, even parents anywhere to be seen. Her moral compass, like everything else, was formed from wind and sand, late night television, thrift store books stacks, and a wistful wide eyed stare into all things unknown.

She could blame him for the introduction, for the dangling silver key she wore tucked underneath everything, for entrance and admission, and for leading the way. She could play at being the innocent, at being the fair haired maiden lured down the big, bad rabbit hole, but Laney knew better than that. She had been looking for him for as long as she could remember. She had been looking for him since before she knew what she was looking for, at all. He might say he found her, fancied her, fixed her all up, but she was the one who’d been out there, under that midnight moon, looking.

Was she lost in it now? Did she even want to be found anymore?

Midnight Blues :: The Detroit Cobras