I did what I do best at midnight. I wrote. I hate my weaknesses creeping up on me like the stealth of this night and the precious precious time they're stealing from me. I detest everything you represent; the ultimate test ,which I feel like I'm going to fail.
There's your dark smouldering eyes and the valley of possibilities between us.
There's my hesitancy and my desire burning into an inseparable collision, locked in eye contact with you.
And there's an ocean in the middle ,of everything that could be that I'm terrified will happen, and still anticipating.
It's midnight and I've been breaking my promises to myself again
It's midnight and I've lost all hope in redemption before the first rays of mercy hit the western horizon to erase my desperation
Heedlessness is choking the humiliation the sane soul in me is supposed to be feeling and I'm still here , breathing. Not crying. But ripping inwardly into a thousand insignificant fragments . Still wishing I was who I used to be .