I drape myself in their minds,
I sit silently and promise nothing
is wrong with me.

There is light in all my dear friends,
I'm drawn in by the flame.

The weekends are filled with
glasses of ***, and "behave yourselves"
and it all feels pure, frightening,
desperate, lovely.
The weekdays filled with late night discussions
centered around depression,
and groundbreaking musicians.

We wake with headaches,
we go to work with red eyes and wrinkled shirts,
but we find God only in the luminance of night.