sky’s pale till midnight,
satellite glided overhead like some
wandering speck of dust caught in
a patch of sunlight,
and the moon’s hung, like a curled
white eyelash upon the lens of
heaven. i made a wish upon her -
as you are supposed to with
fallen lashes -
though i mustn’t say it, or it mightn’t
come true.
it floats like a feather upon a
stream: hopeful. but to where? i
am not entirely sure.
hopefully
to Lune.

One by one the lights go off,
Slowly burning to black,
The kitchen stove, red with heat,
Stills to a cool whisper,
Before the daylight finishes,
It charms us one last time,
Oranges and plums twist into midnight,
The birds stop chirping,
Their chatter sways to silence as the moon takes its place,
Kids close their eyes,
Leaving another day’s mysteries unlocked,
Phones on top of couches quit buzzing,
Cars’ beaming headlights become fewer,
And fewer
Life becomes a flickering candle
Just blown out

I want to feel disappointed
I want to feel like I have failed
But the feeling I feel most often
Is feeling impervious to things that should bother me most

I know what I should feel
unease, disheartened, and anxious
But all I feel is placid, empty, and slightly annoyed

So I sit on my bed at 2 am and wait for something to fill me
Fear, determination, or irritation
so I can fill out the papers next to me
even with the knowledge of its utter importance
I still couldn't give a ****

Nighttime
Is not moonlit cheeks
And starry eyes

It is a silent island
A private pillar
In the mists
Of lost sleep
A single bleary eye
Fuzzy and clouded
Picking out the patches
Of pixelated sky
Deadened by darkness
Alone again

since when did holding a death sentence
in between my fingers,
become such an amazing getaway?

a sense of relief,
pulls away the weight of the world off of my chest,
leaving my lungs charcoal black,
while gazing into the stars,
head scattered with emotion,
numbing the constant sorrow.

“a cigarette won’t **** you”

i said.

but my weary heart and mourning lungs tell me otherwise,
i smoke to get away from reality,
paying attention to only the:

inhale.

exhale.

“save this broken boy”

i said.

talking to the moonlit sky,
well aware not the stars,
nor my hope will save me tonight.

i smoke my lonely cigarette,
burning it down to the filter,
just to be used and thrown away.

“i have it good”

i said.

The creak of a door,
A sliver of light
Slips and illuminates the evergreen tops.

A sigh of relief echoes between our two walls.
I hear the flick of a lighter.
An orange glow appears.
Floating about an arms length away from a dark shadow mostly hidden
behind the evergreens i always complain of.

We end up mimicking each others actions
Swimmers in a line,
Diving in at the same time.
Synchronizing the timing of raising
our separate cigarettes to
our separate lips,

It’s a small solace,
Two strangers, simultaneously trying to **** themselves just a bit quicker
The only form of intimacy we know at this point in life.

Ash, take a drag, ash, take a drag
Rinse and repeat
The wash cycle is almost over
We puff away together
Until one of us tires or hits the ****.

I once again, hear;
The creak of a door,
A sliver of light illuminates the tight knit needles.
I hear a gentle slam,
In his own way, a goodnight

Market rest under the night sky
As a monkey runs along the roofs of the town,
He hops on the cloth that shades the produce when the sun beats down,
And bounces up and all around
Until the sun comes back again,
And the market exudes life as it should.