Laying Awake

7.16.16

I stare at the ceiling above me,

Dark in the late hours of the night.

Everyone but me is asleep

And I think my screen might be too bright.

The light burns my eyes"

not enough to put it away,

but just enough to make me wonder

if my feelings are cliché;

if I stay up this late

to avoid dreams of your smile;

or maybe because

we haven’t talked in a while.

But it doesn’t really matter

What the reason might be,

Considering it’ll never change the fact

You don’t want to be with me

And I can’t really blame you,

Because I can be a mess

With a million things going on in my mind,

And barely any thought process.

I speak fluent smart a*s

But swear I don’t cuss,

A contradiction that

Is completely and totally superfluous,

And I use words that no one

Can even begin to spell

Because I’m convinced that my job

Is to raise pointless hell"

And I must admit,

I think I do my job well

When I can push away the people I actually trusted

Like I can put away a bottle of zinfandel.

 

And now I’m laying awake,         

Alone in a crowded room,

Listing of all the things I should’ve

Forgotten about you.

How your childhood was a movie

That came out before I was born

And, when I told you that,

I remember how you swore.

Your favorite ice cream with

Little fishes in it

And how I would never dare

To ask for a bit,

Because it was your favorite

And I was raised to never ask for

Anything;

I would always be ignored.

That some days,

English Breakfast Tea might as well have been crack

And others, an iced caramel macchiato

Would put you back on track,

Or at least

Keep you on your feet

For late night shifts

Or just a random treat

Because you always worked so hard

And always apologized

Even though there was nothing wrong;

Now I’m just paralyzed.

 

Your life floats through my brain

Every hour of every day;

It’s like permanently driving in a high speed car chase

In a sparsely populated highway.

Your name races through me

Even when logic should win.

My pulse picks up

When someone asks where you’ve been

And I just don’t know

What I should even begin to say

Because saying anything at all is like admitting

That something got in the way

But I don’t really know

What that something was;

Everything seemed perfect,

Like that great, gentle buzz

You get when you drink

just the right amount:

you’re not drunk enough to text your ex,

but you can’t control your mouth

and I don’t know

where that feeling went

for you, because mine is

very much still present

whenever I wake up and see your name

neatly across my screen

or even when I’m passing through town

and wish, silently, that I’d be seen

and you’d wrap me in your arms again

like no time really passed

since the last time I sat in your room

and you were compelled to ask

why I got so quiet,

and what I was thinking about.

But even then I wish I didn’t suspect

What I know for sure now.

 

I knew that I would go back home

And your life would still move on

Without me around everyday;

I knew you’d soon be gone

And that’s why I was quiet,

Because I knew what I didn’t want to believe:

I wanted you through everything

And you wanted me in between

Your job and your school work,

Which should definitely come first"I agree"

But I wanted you through everything

And you just wanted to succeed.