I cough out nostalgia on cold nights,
It is beaten and battered.
Lilacs are laying on the lime colored floor.
September reminds me of a time I thought I had
already mourned.
Those brief encounters with you were seismic in size,
(I just didn't know that then.)
Lovers and roses only intertwine on cold,
autumn nights.
(I just didn't know that then.)

The river flows through shards of sharp glass looking
words.
The mystic memories were the only things trapped deep
in my cauldron.
I threw in remorse for a better taste, but,
it only left a sour sadness were I once had graze.


I cough out nostalgia on those cold,
misty mid autumn nights.
Those lilacs have suffered enough;
it's time to go home.
Those lilacs have suffered enough;
it's time to go home.

And you,
you with your cinnamon breath,
your gurgling throat
muttering whiskey sins,
your mascara flowing,
streaking
down
your high cheeks,
so tweaked,
it breaks my heart.

I think it's sad when I do something just to say it's done. When I can't find the passion I had in your everyday words. I can't tell you I've made a mistake,  I decided to talk that day what a shame. I don't want to write so anyone can read, I want to write hoping someone will actually hear.

I want... I need so desperately for someone to hear.

I've made a mistake , but I can't turn back and I can't change it. I can't fix any of this. I want to be better I want for change , I want for simple.i want to go to sleep hoping I wake up not from my dreams,But into a reality that brings more for my humanity. I want to live. I want to be alive again. I'm tired of trying I've went back to the lie again.  Not a thing has changed and nothing ever will.

I.
I should probably get some sleep
3am is not a time for pouring out sorrows onto paper
The morning is too young and the stars too bright

II.
I should be dreaming of
blue eyes and summer nights
Instead I am writing of old heartbreaks
and drowning in my fifth cup of coffee

III.
My mother reckons I should get some sleep
When she finds me in the morning
Lights on, slumbering into the warm keyboard
And grocery bags under my eyes
Big enough that I stumble trying to lift them

IV.
I should probably get some sleep
When my thoughts start to get obscene
And I am dialing numbers that I shouldn’t be
But sometimes I find it difficult
To lie down in a peaceful rest
When I don’t know if there’s anything worth waking up to