2:13 a.m.
Words pour from my mouth like cigarette ash falling from the tightly wound sentence you construct in the midst of night fall as I fall from your neck in the dim light of your empty room. Grasping onto any form of stability that you have to offer even if they are false promises, at least your words are put together, something I strive to be in this moment for you. I watch you fall apart, an unusual action from someone clean cut to the core. A state of mess is forming in my arms and I never know how to contain my spillage from leaking over the rim, watching you leaves me in a state of confusion and heartache.
Glancing at the clock numbers dismantles my fears and unwinds my patience as I am lost. Wandering in my head as my fingers tremble around my sweater hem, thoughts unleash my insecurities as they finally run, tying my wrists with rope so tight it burns with what ifs threaded between the seams.
My expectations shatter my joyful aura as my smile fades with distant hopes as I watch you leave, and the only thing I can do is wish you would stay. Stay a little longer is what I want to scream, but my words never fall as fast as I think they do. My head spins as I see car lights gleam to my right and my empty palm to my left, and what is left between you and I is now deemed fair game.
Often times I stay up and think about the raindrops that never make it to the window pane and I wonder If they feel pain, as rainy days remind me of you. Lightning strikes and splits the tree stump in two, and I realize now as the charred bark turns orange that I was meant to endure the flames so you can capture the essence of smoke.
