i stayed up last night staring at the ceiling lost in thought, eyes heavy with precipitation just at the edge of falling, gathering up on my cheeks like dew
what more could i do
i’d like to say i fell asleep and dreams of you danced inside my head, but the ceiling was so alluring and it’s the only thing i had
it’s the only thing i had
and i whispered to it softly, barely a sound in the room, the fan blowing on me was louder but i still hope the words reached you
did any of it find you
don’t remember the exact phrasing as my voice was choked with pain, can’t recall more than intent but i was wishing you were here or at least feeling the same
at least feeling the same
i laid there bargaining with the emptiness above, just a sign of it’s existence, just one small chance at love, and i wondered if you ever did the same
or am i just insane
and the music was still streaming even though it was shut off, little songs of loss and heartache that i couldn’t tell of they were real or just an extension of me reaching out to you
reaching out to you
thought of all the other people sleeping happily in bed, all the people dreaming but not of what they have, and i’d give five years off this life sentence i face
just for a fraction of that
they don’t know what they have
tonight will be no different, more of this status no, more staring and thinking of the things i’ve wanted but this garden doesn’t grow
even though i wish it so
and still
i want you either way
be it dream or reality
i need you either way
you’re a part of me
i want you either way
to my own dismay
i need you either way
what more can i say
we writers are blessed with vivid imagination, the imaginary world keeps us alive sometimes.
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sometimes it has to as reality is crushing down
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I love this. I love it because I get it. I’ve been there. I AM there right now. Always wanting, never having. But me and my ceiling are well aquatinted. And my fan covers over my whispered tear-stained words far more often than I care to admit. And I’ve often wished I could bargain with SOMEONE for a chance… yes. I understand this all too well.
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And you could do what I do, print pictures and stick them to the ceiling, blowing kisses at the pretty ones.
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Need to get a printer I guess. And some tape.
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It’s a lovely depiction of sleepless nights
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an honest depiction at times.
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