on the brink of night
waiting, eyes open.
nothing in me is still
but nothing outside moves
hours of staring at lightless window
wasting time thinking about
the wrong person.
A glimpse of the moon
parted by leaves
outside my window
reminds me of how alone I am.
Always the one standing at the passageway
under the busy road
wasting time thinking about
the wrong
person,
I.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
on the brink of night
waiting, eyes open.
nothing in me is still
but nothing outside moves
hours of staring at lightless window
wasting time thinking about
the wrong person.
A glimpse of the moon
parted by leaves
outside my window
reminds me of how alone I am.
Always the one standing at the passageway
under the busy road
wasting time thinking about
the wrong
person,
I.
loneliness; a feeling or a friend? I couldn't see the difference anymore
