Heartbreak Poems Writ After Midnight

Poems writ after midnight
Effervesce intensity, how can it be, both an
Awakening, a dreading, a deadening?
Volcano in the chest, bullet in the head,
Cry stifled, but heard blocks away,
Almost reaching a house where you live

Poems writ after midnight
Presage dread of day soon to start,
Come forth more effortlessly,
Spill, soil, stain - simultaneous - pillow, cheek, us.
Rivulets of senses aflame,
Police cars and fire engines scream warning, coming,
Roaring warning lights of silent pain, heard blocks away,
Almost reaching a house where you live

It's June and from hallways and town streets,
Your shadow will disappear, graduate, not from, but to
You-know-where, the place where
Emo music is born and screamos die,
Same **** place that
Poems come from after midnight

Offered emollients, creams, stupid words,
Drugs, hugs, catch phrases that never soothe, irritate hurt worse,
The only word in the universe of words
I can't explain
A four letter gift my lover 'presented' and
It is pain

Read somewhere some poems never end,
Now I understand that better,
Cause there are no bandages, stitches that can close,
Cause there are no pills, switches that can shut off,
The ripping sound, the cutting noise, the raging inside
Heard blocks away, almost reaching a house where you live,
And dying in the same **** place that
Poems come from after midnight.

5:16 am forever

Just a verse to tell you how missed by me you are.

Every time I walk the beach or wish upon a star.

I think about the good morning txs and wonder how you are.

I cant belive it still feels like this without so much as a kiss.

I often wonder how you feel, and if know how much your missed.

Time its said heals all ,I dont think it will this.

If this seems unfinished I suppose that would be right .

I sit and look at the stars and make my wish again tonight.

What if
I had fallen to my knees
On the cold parking lot concrete
Tears washing over my cheeks
And cries no one should ever have to hear
Bellowing out from beneath my ribs
Screaming at the sky
Looking up at your face
Forcing you
(and everyone else)
To see me in this godforsaken state
Of absolute chaos
Heartbreak
In it's rawest form
What if I had begged you to stay?
What if I'd told you I can't do this without you?
What if I'd told you how much I needed you
What if I did anything other than fighting back the tears
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Mostly for the crowd of people gathering
Saying their goodbyes
Anxiously looking around to bear witness to everyone else's reactions
And I didn't want to be that girl
That girl who falls to the ground
Kicking and screaming and crying and begging
But what if I was?
What if I was any girl other than the one I pretended to be that day
The one that held her tongue and kept her mouth shut because she knew the second she opened it to speak she would sob
The one that wrapped her arms around you for the last time,
and the one that let go
The one that couldn't bear to watch you walk away
So she kissed you goodbye
Got back in the car
And drove home
What if i wasn't that girl who didnt allow herself to completely fall apart until she was alone in the privacy of her own home?
What if instead I'd made a scene,
Doing what everything inside me so desperately wanted to
Grabbing hold of your hand and refusing to let go
Losing the facade of confidence
The charade of strength
But I'm not that girl
And I never will be
So each and every time you leave
I kiss you goodbye
I unclench my fists and retract my anchors
I untether my heart from it's human home
And I put on a brave face
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Or maybe
For that girl.

What melancholy nights
We experience in the towns we call home
Kerouac's Holy October is over
And November hangs on the lips and minds
Of the denizens of
Autumn Earth

And when will I become the
Angel-Headed Hipster
I convinced myself
I was prophesied to be
Hipsters who bury themselves in the acoustic blues
Of coffee shops
Or are baptized by words
In bars on Sunday nights

Why would Carl Solomon
Ever leave Rockland
If he's promised never to be alone there?
And they say Neal Cassady died counting railroad tracks
And did he want to die counting railroad tracks?
And will I die counting railroad tracks too?

I so much want to emulate my heroes
I fear it will **** me
And if not a death of physicality
Then a death of mentality
Where I will cease to be
Me

But who wouldn't love of life
Of holy restlessness
Who wants to limit their scope to
A town
A city
A state
And when the only state I feel I can truly call home
Is Confusion
I want it to be for a good enough reason

And if I am to die in a state like this
Let me die counting railroad tracks
As melancholy days
Turn to melancholy nights