Soliloqui

sisterhood resides in the quiet moments, a pat on the head, a warm shoulder to rest on, a hint of a smile, a sideways hug. those are the moments that count. a second of mutual understanding. a random text message in the middle of the night. a burst of shared, uncontrollable laughter. honesty at its most transparent. disaster and pain. love and ecstasy.

It’s 5:00 am now. The numbers feel like morning but the darkness feels like night.
I am frustrated at my inability to compose music.
I don’t think it’s the cappuccino at 12 am that is keeping me up anymore.
I wrote songs for you before, half-finished, partially angered, and fully desolate.
I don’t think I can do that anymore.
Because I was still hanging on then, walking away and looking back,
a see-saw of foolish hope and stark realities.
I don’t think I’m hanging anymore.
It’s taking a long time moving on from something you didn’t think existed,
so I guess I’m taking this nothing a little too far.