Step out into the cold where no one goes,
where the night air speaks no words of hurt or hate.
The fog of your breath distills in moonlight,
and somewhere a dog barks at the sound of cars.
A wraith-like plastic bag drifts down the street,
a specter, like you, that wanders all alone.
You walk the lonely familiar sidewalks,
hopelessly attempting to forget yourself.
The silent stars above look so becalmed,
though tormented by the slow turmoil of space.
You tread along a crack in the cement,
just like it's a cord that bears you through the air.
In the end the cold reaches into you,
and freezes your wandering will to go on.
Though the cold, the moon, and the stars remain,
you happily crawl back to the place you left.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 6:05 AM UTC
Step out into the cold where no one goes,
where the night air speaks no words of hurt or hate.
The fog of your breath distills in moonlight,
and somewhere a dog barks at the sound of cars.
A wraith-like plastic bag drifts down the street,
a specter, like you, that wanders all alone.
You walk the lonely familiar sidewalks,
hopelessly attempting to forget yourself.
The silent stars above look so becalmed,
though tormented by the slow turmoil of space.
You tread along a crack in the cement,
just like it's a cord that bears you through the air.
In the end the cold reaches into you,
and freezes your wandering will to go on.
Though the cold, the moon, and the stars remain,
you happily crawl back to the place you left.
I go on a lot of walks in the middle of the night.
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