3 a.m.

the dying town, dark moon,
the wolf lurks in a concrete tomb.

fallen friends and picnics at the graveyard,
empty stores and sidewalk ******.

streets of sorrow--
one-way roads to no tomorrow.

shadowed eyes, whispers in bars,
fallen angels, shooting stars.

sirens wail the ****** night,
and in every traffic light burned red
time never stops for the dead.

the ****** on the corner.
none to morn her fate,
a wink and a whisper,
"do you want to go on a date?"

the black butterfly,
soul of sorrow,
no echo, no refrain,
lost in silence, bound by pain.

A kite once soared with a wish in its tail,
To catch a great gust and ride on the gale.
But the sky was too still, not a breeze to be found,
So the kite came to rest on the soft, silent ground.

“I’ll fish for the wind!” the kite boldly declared,
With a spool and some string, it felt quite prepared.
It cast out its line to the clouds way up high,
Hoping a breeze might nibble nearby.

It waited with patience, its tail twitching light,
Under the sun and the stars through the night.
It sang windy songs in a fluttery tune,
And baited the hook with a whisper from June.

Then—tug!—went the string, the line gave a wiggle,
The kite gave a cheer and a dance and a jiggle!
Up it went flying with wild windy zest,
A breeze on the line and the sky in its chest!

Now every young kite, with a dream and a reel,
Knows fishing for wind takes patience and zeal.
For sometimes the sky gives a gust as a gift—
To those who stay grounded but still hope to lift.

You'll never see my weep,
The pain's seeping into my bones, through the depths of my soul.
I'll embody it untill I can feel no more.
I've come to enjoy it, to relish in it.
It's become apart of me.
I've already drowned in it, I've let the waves of my emotions drown me in the riptides and destroy me against the coast.
In the agony of hurricanes, in my mind I stand alone. I'm fated to make my choice, I'll heal by burning.. I know..
Untill all is left is ash, I'll find myself.

We are not survivors.
we are residue.

the soot that lingers
on collapse's last tongue.

entropy's loiterers—
spiteful, unfinished.
neurons in feedback.
systems with no gods.

the architects left
when the scaffolds imploded.
we cradle their blueprints
like scripture in ash.

rebuild?
with what breath?
with what myth?
our dreams are famine-shaped.

nirvana is a severance package.
emptiness sold
in velvet robes.
a silence that never asked
about wreckage.

so we sharpen our vowels.
scribe ruin in elegy.
chant hymns for dead logics.
leave witness marks
in the marrow of this glitch.

we were not chosen.
we remained.

When it ended, I cried for us,
For the love we built on fragile trust.
The dreams we shared, the moments few,
I wept for all we couldn’t do.

I cried for late-night whispered vows,
For futures lost, for broken now.
For every kiss, for every laugh,
For what we had but couldn’t last.

You cried for you, your own despair,
For burdens that were hard to bear.
Your tears fell down, not for our we,
But for the things you couldn’t see.

Two rivers flowed but never met,
One full of hope, one of regret.

When the dusk skies’ moon
Finds us creeping through the night
Might I take your hand
A gentle grasp with mine
And pray to our God above
That the moonlight won’t catch us in time

I'm almost positive I heard them talking

Talking in their protective, yet complaining manner

They say, they only get to interact with the weak

They say, they're all too often held responsible for the bond between others

What's the matter with them?

They're the ones full of chemistry

They're the ones who can escape scott free

While I have to stay inside and act positive about it

Just once I'd like to not be in the middle of everything