Just last night I prayed for
a conclusion to these midnight
fantasies which have haunted
me ever since the day you left.

Maybe it was for the simple
fear of wanting, but more
likely it is for the fear of
once again losing.

There is a weariness here
not seen by the naked eye
that is fueled by the hope
which midnight dreams bring.

Yet when my prayers were
not heard, I instead wrote
you a poem using simple
words meant only for explanation.

Perhaps that could have been
the answer to my late night prayers,
but it was never delivered,
I was never that brave.