You put your hand on February’s
Sure, I knew you’d talked before
And I saw him pour your favorite drink
On more than one occasion
In the morning, he was there and you were gone
He whispered to your neighbor
That you were the midlife crisis trophy wife
He’d always dreamed of
And besides, in two years he’s getting older
As his time runs out, he’s getting colder

Everyone you know gets a picture to go with their name
And you’re just drawn in
No one savors you or hates you
But they recognize your hopeful face
As they pass by.

Your neighbor was the actor
So damn modest until fame set in
Saying he was the real imposter in a theatre full of fakes
At February’s secret, he was struck
He changed the names and made it big
While February bought a Vespa,
Got a haircut and pierced his ear
He broke down on a long distance phone call
To a therapist he overpays
Crying, “Wednesday,   I          love  you!”