It was three am and, we were still up talking- laughing at inappropriate jokes with tired voices and sleep blending into the whites of our eyes like paint being mixed before an artist creates her masterpiece. By the window, I sat, staring at the moon and it’s perfect figure, so round and complex with ridges only where meant to be. My mind was searching like a lost child for an answer to my happiness, my mind was searching for a reason to be unhappy, but each time it would fail then try again. By the fifth time searching, I finally realized that this was what it was like to be ok. This was how it felt to be living for more than sleep at night and empty rooms. This is what it feels like when the stars are aligned, and everything is still. Tonight the moon asked me how I was feeling and for the first time in forever I said I was doing quite alright.

It became a long
and drawn out mess.
You push me back, I'd pull you in
just to counteract the loneliness.

I don't really want you,
I'll confess.
I just want things that I'm not meant to;
the feel of forbidden sweetness.

I will wear a little less,
each time you say no more;
just as you feel like you forget,
you'll smell the smoke beneath your door.