Around eleven at night is when my throat gives up,
the claw of tears that has been dragging itself in me,
finally lets out shrieks that come from all corners of my body.
This is the time when all the memories come back into my brain,
my body is flooded with heat and regret.
It always lasts for a few minutes though,
no longer than ten.
But, for those few moments I slap a hand over my eyes,
maybe in an attempt to not see your face,
maybe so I don’t have to see how pathetic I feel.
My face is so quick to crumple,
my body so ready to throw itself into a fire,
just so I don’t have to feel this void.
There’s a void inside of me,
and this time of night is when it comes alive.