You only remember the good times when you're all alone late at night.
When you sit there and write by the light of a single lamp
Throwing shadows which creep out of the corners of the room,
Turning the familiar into monsters of this lonely gloom.

You only remember the good times when you're all alone late at night,
Forgetting all of the fights, the hesitations, and all of the insecurity, lack of surety.
These are the witching hours when those ghosts come out,
Always out of sight but never out of mind,
Reminding you of all the good times that you had,
Reminding you how much better it felt having someone there at your side
During those long, lonely moments that the dark of night has in store ahead.

It's in times like these that you must take strength and heart from the good times you had,
Knowing that the relationship built on such poor grounds was driving both of you crazy,
And that despite being alone, being by yourself lying in bed,
Missing the presence and companionship the two of you had,
This break from the insanity is the best thing for the both of you in the end,
And at the very least, in time, you will still be able to call her your friend.

So stay strong my friend,
Don't give into these ghosts,
Don't show weakness and fall back into dead ends.
The pains cuts deep and sweet this late at night,
But with the morning comes new light,
And with the day comes new hope,
Banishing the presence of these nightly ghosts.

I made a promise to you and I broke it.
Sitting here in the halls where I first saw you
Drives it home, God, how I know it.

Reflecting back on some of those moments,
Still so raw, they still make me flinch,
Time and again bringing blood to the surface
Despite how many times I've gone back to revisit.

It's so bitter and it's so sweet,
This intensity of emotion encapsulated in those days.

Passions so fresh in a world so new,
Forging paths in lands all but unknown,
Feeling more alive than either of us could have guessed at.

Now I live with more regret than I ever thought I could ever know,
Stealing breaths of life,
Revisiting those moments I felt most alive.

The last few nights of sleep have not been nearly as restful as hoped they could be
Seeing as those strange dreams linking you and me have been a recurring theme.
No, it hasn't been a repeat of that first odd dream where I
Sought to avoid you - something I am unable to do despite my best efforts.

No, of late it has been one where I am sitting at a bar and through the door walk in
A number of men who I've encountered in my life, some I've known well, and
One by one as they come in, they come up and sit down or stand next to me.
Clearly they are talking to me and trying to impart words of wisdom
Won by hard years of growth and experience gained by walking through this world,
Words by which they hope to save me untold years of toil, of pain, frustration, and yet,
When I wake each time, I only have the vaguest impression, no recollection
Of any of those poignant words which those men might have said.
And that surreal feel of the need to discern meaning from these meetings
Comes as I realize that one of the men coming to talk to me in the bar, in my dream,
Was your father.

He is not there in anger, he is anything but imposing, he is merely speaking,
And as stated before I have only the faintest reflection of what he said
Upon awakening.
That he is your father, coupled with these troubling instances of you
Popping up in my life in the most odd and beyond coincidental of circumstances
Leaves me desperate for any glimmer of clarification.
There's some message that's clearly here to see
But to my eyes that slips and escapes me
Unable to fathom the reason that these phantoms of you
Keep haunting me even into my sleep, into my dreams,
When all I want is to be free of you
As you are obviously free of the chains and snares of me.

I've never been one to read too heavily into signs,
But Good God you have been everywhere these last few weeks,
Except where you should be,
Which is out of mind.

To begin I see your face every time I happen to see my best friends Facebook page
(He's the man you're now dating).
There you are, staring and smiling right back at me,
Happy as I could ever have hoped you could be.

Then of course he commented on some post you made so it gets put in my newsfeed.
It's just so strange all the places in which you are appearing.

Before that I had a dream where you had the same habit of appearing
In all those places that you least should be,
And despite my best efforts to evade you,
My luck - which normally runs exceedingly to the good -
Found the propensity for tremendously letting me down,
Rounding every last corner to find you already there.
Regardless how long we've been broken up, you've decided to comeback and haunt my sleep.

Next was an injection of even more instability into the already unsteady,
As my now ex-girlfriend talked to my best friend - yes, again, the man you're now dating -
And upon hearing how well things are going between you two
Realized just how unstable, just how rocky, things were between her and me
(And just so you remember, you two used to be friends before everything,
Back before you and I had started dating).
So now she decides to approach this subject, something to me seemingly out of left field...
A tear-filled, weepy approach, and she had trouble trying to vocally broach the subject,
That is, all up until once I figured out it was you, it made perfect sense on the heels
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                       Of that dream.

To cap off all the unreality of your presence in a life
That is otherwise utterly free of you - or at least that's how it should be -
Came only a short while ago... once again, completely out of the blue.
I was searching on Facebook for my buddy Johnny, though I think he's now going by John,
So I figured
                     John would do.
When the results came up, what the hell, holy crap, this is too bizarre to be truth,
Johnson came up as the first result I might be looking for - yup, that's you -
Someone I'm not even friends with on this social media nightmare,
Strange that it wasn't one of half dozen or so friends named Johnny or John.
No, it was you.

It might be finally time to take this to a psychiatrist, because,
As stated before, this ****'s getting too bizarre to be true.
Leave me in peace and leave my mind alone.
You've gotten your final revenge as the girl who replaced you and I have finally broken.
Things between us are over and I'm single,
While you are happily off at school in a budding relationship.
What must I do to rid myself of you, to be free of you
As you are obviously free of me?

You're most likely asleep and dreaming peacefully at this moment
While I sit here awake under one dim lamp wondering and writing about you,
Wondering if I actually want sleep, hesitant that it might bring no respite,
Rather only more thoughts of you, whereas you are free of me.

Kiss my skin, lungs to limbs, **** the breath, out of my lungs, lick my earlobes, bite my lips, **** on my *******, don’t leave me halfway and make me fall in love with you. Make me feel all of that, intensity, passion, scarring, burning and true love. Make me.

I sit here, it's late at night.
I know I should be asleep but I have a need - I am compelled to write.
I spent all day being hungover, avoidng homework and being useless
So it's necessary for me to burn the midnight oil
In order to create something fruitful out of this lost day.

I also need to push forward now and
Guide the pen across the page
To maintain and foster the habit,
To help it grow and develop,
So that in the end I am a better writer.

There are times when I'm not feeling the words and I fumble awkwardly,
Or that I am too busy to be bothered to pause for a scribble,
But my goal is to make this time of writing and therapy
A daily habit.

If I am honest in my wish to be the crafter of words I envision,
I first must show the drive and determination, the dedication.
For the novice, words will forever remain words,
Only the truly gifted ever form sentences.

Is it crazy that most of the hours I have spent with you, I have been deteriorating inside with my lungs blazing, throat choking, eyes shedding lucid tears?
Is it crazy that all the good memories have been eclipsed by the terrible ones and that our sun is doomed, cursed never to rise against stark cobalt midnight sky?
I don’t think it’s crazy, I never believed in forever but you did. But love, you shouldn’t have listened to me, you know I’m crazy; you should have never stopped believing.
But what really is crazy is that I’m still being strung along, even when I know Arctic Circle never sees the sun in winter time.

The shivers descends down my spine
The coldness creeps up one you
Before you know it
The liquid nitrogen fills you
It courses through your veins
Your lungs start to feel heavy
Coldness Caresses you heart
CRACK! You're shattered
Millions of pieces
Never to be put together again
-Jenneil Lewin