Tabernaemontana

hello my mystic flower.
its 2 20 am. 

after my long wait for you to come alive,

my eyes are tired, 

I am tired,

I want to talk.
and listen
and
inhale the scent that becomes the soft white petals in 

the brief patches of silence 

that gets trapped in our conversation

unintentionally 

I'm afraid to fall asleep,

what if, it wakes me up?

what if, you are my dream. 

but

why are you withering away?

why couldn't you stay for a bit longer?
just a little while longer,

hear me please. 

hear me imploding,
to become a simple, tiny dot
almost nothing
still something
will you know I am here?
before I shrink further
to become my rational slumber.

Author's Note

I remember some friend referring to me as a grammar rapist :) well it doesn't make me any proud fyi.

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

i think this is eloquent. full of emotion and despair. sometimes we all try to hold on to that dream for as long as we can even though we know the inevitable will happen. great job.