An ode to the nights I’m on top of the word.
The ones which coax me out of bitterness
With tempting promises of change,
of freedom.
Where I can pull my mind from the darkness,
And let it roam free, if only for a moment.

Here’s to the nights my lungs fill with air,
My insides no longer laced with iron.
And I’m light as a feather; rather
Than weighed to the floor.
These nights I can fly, high above the treetops,
Where my top speed seems but a steady pace.

A song to the night air,
Its cool breeze thick with poison—the kind
Which taste of berries and cream.
Taken in lovingly with the scent of the dewdrops,
They eat away at me slowly, killing from the inside out.
One night at a time.

Here’s to the night’s long lost words.
Those which sneak onto the paper without consent,
Finally becoming real, if only in the starlight.
For once the sun breaks through,
They seek solace in the shadows
Just waiting to break free.

A verse for bedtime mania,
Calling out, “No, no. not time for that, my dear”
And ripping me away from sleep’s safety.
It sends me spinning through the black skies,
A whirlwind of stars twirl through my thoughts.
Too much to take in for one night
Yet little more than one messy blur.

Here’s to the nights the stars are twice as bright,
And self destructive whispers
Meld with the crickets’ songs,
Until their silent, deafening calls grow
Louder than anything I’ve ever heard,
Shine brighter than the moon at midnight,
Become my northern star,
And guide me safely home.
“Come to me, my darling.”

And ode to the nights of insanity,
Which sing me to sleep
Every time I lay my head down.