It's past midnight ,
Thinking about nothing and
everything .
Got a burning heart but soaked eyes,
I just wanna get lost anywhere ...except my thoughts

maybe i am here.
would you see me?

the door is open--
you can walk on out.

see all the teenagers
jigging about.

i don't think it's your scene
over here with me.


maybe i am there.
could you hear me?

the capitals are low--
turning sentences inside out.

see all the thoughts
hanging around.

the vision is blurred
over here with me.


maybe i am no longer.
could you sense me?

don't misunderstand--
that's not what this poem is about.

see my blank stare
midnight all around.

the time is all gone
over here with me.

If you're looking for a reason not to **** yourself tonight, this can be it.

Sometimes, we feel as if nothing matters.
We all do.
So i made a list of a few of my own reasons,
13 Reasons Why
I'm still alive.
And hopefully you'll change your mind.
Those moments you feel happy, and nothing but lucky.
And you wish nothing will ever change.
I will try my best.

Reason 9, Drown in your words at midnight.
"****, my window makes hella noise after last night's thunderstorm."
"So does that mean you can't sneak out at night anymore?"
"There's got to be another way, I'll fix it."
"Do you think you can do that?"
"If I want to."
"What do you want?"
"You. I want you. I want to love you. I want us to be together in a safe place. I want us to finally be okay. I want us to have a normal life, without hiding the drugs and alcohol, without hiding at all. I want to talk to you. I want us to realise. I want to write and paint and listen to music forever without the need to stop. I want to cry. I want to smile. I want to drown in your words at midnight.

I have temperament, I have flaws and nothing great to show.
No power, no guide
Just a figment and shadow, part of mortal life.
I will not leave behind any legacy,
Like thousand lost soul, soon to be forgotten turn into ashes and dust.
I choose my own prerogative;
To live
To love
To laugh.
Not a caged bird mourning for freedom
Nor a mannequin to please your soaring eyes.
I am the lust of my own desire.
I am the muse of my own story.
I am ordinary, I am imperfect.

Its beautiful at midnight
Unlike the day,
When its blinding bright.
I look up at the sky
Colored in shades of black,
Dotted with stars up high.
I look at the beauty of the moon,
Making me forget
That the day will be starting soon.
They say the sunrise is ecstatic,
I say, ponder into night life
It's beauty is magnetic.