i love the lonely nights

when i sit in spite of the clock

its tedious tick

has the characteristic of a gnawing itch

it is a mind game

i win

i make the rules

decide if i will be eluded

i’ve grown stronger now

my perception reaches beyond deception

the quiet night

quiet like myself

words floating closer to the surface

quickly I catch them

spoken

my views face discretion

i will never get them

so i am here on my own

thank god i no longer cling and know how to be alone

if they only knew gentleness

delicate enough to hold the truth

they’d be thrown

the world would spin around and head closer to home

the stars we’ve been shown

but fear kept us from knowing

the pain is showing

i psychoanalyze each and every encounter

i must deal with disguise but i won’t stop trying

because my hunger is not for a lies

try to offer and soothe

hoping the gentle and calm will bring about anxiety and hatred’s demise

those feelings harbor dark places for the ego to thrive

it’s time it was brushed off

for i can see it in their eyes

their shoulders are tired

it is difficult enough to put up the facade

to hold all this weight

dreams crushed instead of made

they can still be saved

i am still hopeful

the night is my rope still

i hold on to move on

forgiveness

i am mending

intertwined with the divine

grasp onto the line

let it lift you

high enough to see the light

then you’ll see just as i

even though the night is dark and lonely

everything is alright

you will be fine

 

stream of consciousness – g.c.

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