A Cruel Twish of Fate

[Matt To Lose]

Here I am nine months tired, broken inside, and totally uninspired. Everything is winding down and I realized that I’ve wasted about a year, each night I sat, waiting for you here. Waiting for a call. Waiting for a knock. Waiting for you to tell me that everything that transpired over months was just a bad dream. But that bad dream has led to months of insomnia, where lights stay on every minute of everyday. I sit in that chair where I clang to you and two hearts became one. Except for these days, I cling to a pillow. I sit wide eyed, visibly worn and vulnerable to the unknown. I sit there quietly, bags under my eyes. Since the last night I slept was the night before you said goodbye. Right after you lips separated from mine, I was released into the highest clouds of heaven. Where I believed angels like you hailed from. But as the sun rose, dramatic goodbyes severed ties with everything that I thought resembled perfection. So the birds are now chirping, meaning the sun will soon rise. But the lights are on, as I sit dried eyed. Each night that I stay awake, I keep myself from dreaming. I keep myself from nightmares. Nightmares where you visit. When you visit, everything comes back. Your face, your straight hair, your voice, your lips, your tongue, your smile, your taste, and even your name (when said by anybody) brings back the memories and the hurt that for one night I was close enough to perfection and good enough to call it mine