what is that sound from within
that wakes you up seven minutes past midnight
and makes you crave a glass of ice cold red wine?
you spend eternal minutes
trying to figure out
which part of your mind won't let you go
back to sleep
and you end up as always
lighting another cigarette and sitting on the window sill
until the sun rises and the birds start
singing again

maybe I missed the way words rolled off your tongue or the way your words made me rethink how to breathe

maybe I miss your smile and how parallel your top and bottom teeth are

maybe I miss the way we could talk about meaningless things yet it meant everything to me

maybe I miss the good things like the wink you gave me when I gave you my brightest smile (which was only there because I saw you)

maybe it's the bad things about you like the way you made me feel at midnight, I couldn't fall asleep

maybe it's just the magic of night that made me feel this way

maybe it isn't. now as I think it wasn't just night it was 24/7

maybe it's the way you could say my name. like bliss, it made me like my name. you made me feel insane

maybe it's the bad things like the way I made you feel at midnight you couldn't hardly fall asleep

or maybe it's the bad
or maybe it's just the good
but it's probably
most likely
it is
I'm most sure is
both the two

You always looked at me as if you were better.
Maybe it is because drugs were never your forte and
through me they flowed so easily.
but I do recall a boy who craved
to be a part of my
scene, but he didn't belong what
with his Nike socks and his
Polo shirts.
That couldn't be it,
because you wanted
every other girl there
over me and nearly ****** my
best friend in the bed that
held me the day before.
I was never good enough for you.
I didn't work out and
especially didn't not in
matching gear from all of your
expensive favorites.
I preferred botched up jeans and
a flannel that didn't quite match
my beanie or
my shoes.

You always looked at me as if you were better.
Hell, you'd rarely even
hold my hand in
your car let alone in
public, did you worry about
how it looked to be seen with
someone like me? Someone who
you'd give that same disgusted look
every ******* day?
You'd look at me with complete
self-glorification and absolute
lack of empathy, no love
left for the girl who would
slit her own ******* throat
if you truly desired it.

You always looked at me as if you were better.
****, maybe you are.

Haunted souls travel inked skies at night
drawing their trajectories among constellations.

With soles dipped in stardust
they tread through the heavens
searching for God; searching for rest.

Some thoughts have clung to their skin
words stained with regret beat them down
walls of hope, crushed to rubble
a city of dreams had once existed within.

When you see a shooting star tonight,
remember that it is a star that is dead
carrying the lost to somewhere far away
an afterlife with meaning.

At the end of October,
the month of warmth before the ice,
the angels will donate a star to every soul
who cannot escape their haunted insides
a twinkle of light
in an otherwise eternity of darkness.

Once upon a wounded soul
a broken promise took its toll
the cracks cut deep
though the scars are old
Once upon a wounded soul

Once upon a bitter tear
a suppressed aching reappeared
regrets can't be shrugged off
after all these years
Once upon a bitter tear

Once upon a lonely night
a little hope returned its light
the soul prepares to love again
the tears have fallen, the eyes are wiped
Once upon a lonely night.