you’re gone

It’s 2:21am, but I am not tired.

inpiration twirls and twirls,

escaping through my fingers.

It’s 2:23am, but I am still up.

thinking of you

and me

and what we could never be.

It’s 2:50am, and I’m still thinking of you.

thinking of your strawberry hair

(intertwined with my fingers)

and those cherry lips

(brushing up agaisnt mine).

It’s 3:00am, and I’m hurting.

breaking

from this heart-pain

(it bubbles and bubbles and bubbles)

It’s 2:00am, and I’m tired.

So.

So tired.

No, it’s 5:00am,

and my eyes are twitching

and my lungs are shaking

and my mind is yelling

and my heart is creaking

and my body is still

and

b r e a k i n g

from

the

inside.

It’s too late.