Before the world
Wakes from its slumber,

The luminance
Of the night casts
Down.

Now it's five a.m. and
I'm restless, wanting
Something more,

Lost again,
Just like before.

Lonely, heartbroken,
I don't want to feel
Anymore.

In the darkest
Hour, I lie awake.

Memories of you
And I, and I just
Want to cry out.

Read between the
Lines,

Everything's not fine.

The world's not in
Black and white,

But the color
Has run out, and I'm
Cast out.

So I lie here awake,
Remembering the
Better days when

You were mine.

I was born in autumn
maybe that's why
I know how to fall apart
so well

let my sorrow take
control of me
and my body
to slip away
peacefully
let the meadows
turn my blues green
and the wind
unknot the ties
of my stomachache  
have the rain cleanse
my impurities
the dirt cover me
like a mountain of sins
lay me to rest
i am empty within

No matter how many  
obstacles life throws at me,
I will always love you,
and will fight such obstacles
to hold on to and cherish
the miracle that is you.

It doesn’t exist
Anymore
It never really did
I built it up
Too much in my mind

He was just being kind

At least I’ve grown and matured
And this time I picked a great guy to catch feelings for

The totality of it; lost,
upon the moment we awake-
from the permafrost that is sleep
though this is only one take.

It must be a mistake, opaque
lies commandeered; drowned us
in our beds, downy lips have let
it slip-The truth? I hardly know her.

Moreover, when we castigate
our offspring, the ones we love the most,
we have castrated their minds at best-
at worst, the fires of hate, we've stoked.

So next time that you blame the youth
whose marble towers we've destroyed.
Ponder protractedly the ways
in which this outcome, you would avoid.

why does it seem as if everyone has left me?
my hands quiver as i verbalize these thoughts
and the sweat from my palms dampens the page --
my vulnerability has become difficult to manage,
despite my mind's intent to remain good-willed
and my heart's discontent with the language misunderstood

friendship does not require ideological consistency,
and to believe otherwise is a detriment to the love
we are fortunate enough to experience in this life;
intellectual supremacy equates to the patronizing rhetoric
embedded within the elitism of the morally superior --
your grim clouds turn our progressivism dull

i will say what i need to retain a friend,
but the judgment within is a grudge untouched,
a ghastly bruise that never seems to mend --
you do not get to determine the language i speak,
the words i weep, or the healing i seek
when a bond so potent is forgotten so easily

to question my morality is to question my identity,
and those who know are the ones to see me grow
as i flourish from the bounds of these restrictions
and inch my way upright, stronger than before,
disallowing my words to be misconstrued,
a prohibition of the trauma i continue to elude

a Leo is loyal like the lioness of a pride,
gnawing at the flesh of the ones who betray --
grudges maintained in the chill of the winter,
a midnight breeze toppled an unchanged core --
it is not a star, this dim light retreating above,
merely the fading memory of our platonic love.