Sep 2016
midnights are for highways
for empty roads and fast cars
and no destination to think of but away.
chatter and backwards looks will only get you so far in the race you're running slow down take it all in and remember if you're still alive there's still something to live for.
midnights are for running away from your troubles with the aid of drugs or sleep
midnights are for encountering places in your mind so dark you'll wish you'd never met yourself
running with the devil through wet grass littered with shards of glass from broken promises and people
from squeezing so hard that everything cracked into one thousand pieces that shine like diamonds even in the dark
midnights are for hollow eyes staring back at you someone just as dazzled by all the black and burning as you are and getting lost in their tired gaze like they weren't just a stranger, they were an old friend
midnights are for hunting ghosts that try and take your sanity away skeletons in your closet whose bones won't settle down an empty casket waiting for the last of your head to fall into oblivion and get caught swirling in the wind.
cool to the touch and hot to the taste a boy and a girl a lullaby of saints and the symphonies of sinners all evaporate into the stars and become as divided as conflicting desires.
tension growing across a crowed room two pairs of eyes locked on two doors topped with exit signs she telling he let's get out of here with nothing more than blinks and stares a morse code designated for the fraile of heart only.
midnights are for chasing what you want while no one is looking, for writing poetry about your lips and songs about the way your tongue dances so effervescently stories about a kind of romance they all think is dead.
midnights are minutes and hours and seconds and more than just the time from twelve to one they come and go as often as you wish they wouldn't or would
they will eat you alive and spit you out and then brush your hair with the most delicate strokes of moonlight
they are the reason people keep staying up past their bedtime and why they are tired in their corporate hours because even in a perfect world nothing is right when a midnight goes wrong.
for empty roads and fast cars
and no destination to think of but away.
chatter and backwards looks will only get you so far in the race you're running slow down take it all in and remember if you're still alive there's still something to live for.
midnights are for running away from your troubles with the aid of drugs or sleep
midnights are for encountering places in your mind so dark you'll wish you'd never met yourself
running with the devil through wet grass littered with shards of glass from broken promises and people
from squeezing so hard that everything cracked into one thousand pieces that shine like diamonds even in the dark
midnights are for hollow eyes staring back at you someone just as dazzled by all the black and burning as you are and getting lost in their tired gaze like they weren't just a stranger, they were an old friend
midnights are for hunting ghosts that try and take your sanity away skeletons in your closet whose bones won't settle down an empty casket waiting for the last of your head to fall into oblivion and get caught swirling in the wind.
cool to the touch and hot to the taste a boy and a girl a lullaby of saints and the symphonies of sinners all evaporate into the stars and become as divided as conflicting desires.
tension growing across a crowed room two pairs of eyes locked on two doors topped with exit signs she telling he let's get out of here with nothing more than blinks and stares a morse code designated for the fraile of heart only.
midnights are for chasing what you want while no one is looking, for writing poetry about your lips and songs about the way your tongue dances so effervescently stories about a kind of romance they all think is dead.
midnights are minutes and hours and seconds and more than just the time from twelve to one they come and go as often as you wish they wouldn't or would
they will eat you alive and spit you out and then brush your hair with the most delicate strokes of moonlight
they are the reason people keep staying up past their bedtime and why they are tired in their corporate hours because even in a perfect world nothing is right when a midnight goes wrong.
