Half passed three a.m.
sitting on my rooftop
cold stinging my face
like a swarm of ******* bees

Hands shaking
lips quivering
teeth chattering so intensely,
I swear they're gonna shatter
and the pieces will shine as they're caught in the sticky, night sky
glowing softly compared to the other lights in your eyes

There isn't enough of me left on the inside
to hold me down on the outside
and my plastic bag body catches in the wind
taking me to places that I've never been

My front steps are looking lonely
I've been spending all my free time
on my rooftop
daydreaming about jumping right off
Thinking of ways to vanish
to become a ghost

I just want to blend smoothly into the night
so I may breathe my cold, stale breath upon the morning
and stop the light from coming back again