It's one of the those days...
At the end of one of those weeks...
At the end of one of those stretches...
That fits in as the end of one of those months...

Where nothing has gone wrong.
But nothing sits right.

And one wonders if the discontent is something that can be released...
Or if discontent is something one must to come to grips with the need to hold.

I could use a good cry.
Though one would question why.
Because nothing is really all that wrong...

It's just that nothing sits quite right.