an open window

the light shines in

I look at the stars

and think of you

as the moon creeps in

past the thin glass

brightening the dark

and filling up the room

a warm cup of coffie

in my freezing hands,

so pale against the moonlight

and the sky full of stars

I take a small sip of coffee

and then another

thinking of you

and what could have happened

The possibilities

of you and me together

spending our lives intertwined

both hearts beating as one

for so much longer

then just that one summer

when you promised me

that this will last forever

So I look at the moonlight

and suddenly shiver

as the cold wind wraps around me

and again, I quiver

And as the time passes

moving relentlessly forward,

I stare at the clock

watching the hand of it twitch

Slowly moving past midnight

and leaving today behind...

So I close the window

and head to bed

Wrapping myself around

a different body, a different heart

he now keeps warm at night

and brings me hope

for a better tomorrow

from the one you promised

and never made true

my summer romance

that ended with the last ray of sun

Moonlight wades

in knee high boots

through darkened

life images

casting spidered webs

of broken shadows.

I open my mouth

and swallow it whole

as screams slip through

my fingers, puddling

fitfully on the floor.

I shout the truths

never uttered

in daylight, while

the past sleeps

in my bed

in tangled sheets.

My night

is wide awake

opening jaws

in sucking sounds.

I hang

from bare threads

listening

to the drip, drip, drip

of black blood water,

drilling into my mind,

a torture filling

the night hours,

slowly squeezing

me into oblivion.

I close my

ponderous eyes

with the dawning

realization that

I am not ready

to go yet,

pulling the clouds

with both hands

roughly

from my mind.

#MidnightMonologues #slippingThrough

I tried

Believe me

I did

I tried to drown

Everything about you

That can affect me greatly

Actually no you can't affect me

Anymore

It's not like everyone would believe me. No.

They said I'm faking it

No. Not at all.

Funny isn't it coz it is not funny at all.

Believe it or not

You don't affect me at all

Not anymore

They affect me

They affect the way I act towards you.

The only thing I feel about you now is

Shame.

I am ashamed of what I felt for you.

I am ashamed that I let my eyes fall again.

It's funny though

Because I can still your voice singing a song that is playing from my phone even when the speaker is right in front of me.

I cloak myself in a blanket of stars

Crushed velvet and soothing silk

Punchdrunk off moonlight and dreams

The rush of cars or crashing waves or distant laughter?

A sacred lullaby

The heartbeat a rosary

First I open my mind's eye to listen

Then I open my inner self to find

A pillow to hold

A dance floor to consummate

A sky to embrace

All these and more a place of worship

People, memories, little scars of irritation--

Shoo, fly, don't bother me

I'm diving into me tonight

I'm melting into midnight

#Challenge #Midnight

Tired of heartbreaks

He wished for true love

A shooting star

Crashed near him

Revealing a broken Angel

#MidnightMonologue

And here I am again

Thinking how you did it

Again

How you made my day whole

And break it at the same

#Midnight

Late at night, as I lie in my bed, my mind drifts to that place between reality and fantasy. Nostalgia is a difficult feeling to express, yet if I were to be able to thrust my feelings upon you, you'd know exactly what kind of warmth and gentle ecstacy I was experiencing. It's funny how thinking back on the past can make your heart melt with joy, and then harden to ice, like petting a puppy to later have it draw blood from biting your hand. Yes, you remember the happy times, but as soon as you do, you realize that they are gone forever, only preserved in your memories that fade with time. Thankfully, there is a way to preserve these precious gifts, a way to etch memories in the fabric of time in the hopes that they will handed down to our posterity; write them down.

Even the people that feel that they "cannot write" should write their memories down, if not for their own sake, than for the sake of their children, and their childrens' children, and so on. Writing is not all about creativity, it can be as simple as writing down what you remember before it gets lost in that fickle thing we call a mind. Everyone that can write, should; even those that can't should dictate their thoughts and memories. Everyone's story is important, and our nostaliga is one of the things that many of us share of different places, times, and people. Write before it's too late; before you must leave, so that the world many know your heart, now and forever.

Your light is on. Are you ruminating? 

If only there was a way to capture 

your attention. Perhaps we could be friends.

Would you be interested as to why

I am awake so late at night? Would I

bore you, scare you? Would you terrorize me?

If I had not taken a nap before, 

I would be asleep right now. Exhausted 

after a dose of medication, I

had no choice. So here I sit, watching you. 

Hoping not to be misunderstood, I

glance over to your window trying to 

catch a glimpse or better, your attention, 

with the hope of a new adventure. "Hi!"