You of the Night.
In the parking lots,
under streetlights.
Midnight confessions.
Speaking to youā
you of the night.
Ragged breath and whispers,
breath stolen away.
2 AM rages,
dark, dark, darkly
in your chemical minds.
You got to feel it now.
God to feelā
the taste of absinthe gloss,
echoes echoing,
shrill through your spine.
Phantoms peer through the alleyway,
pointing at you,
telling you youāre next.
This world of bread and circuses.
And the politiciansā
entertainers distracting you,
until they suck the life out of you like bats,
draining your years,
taking your future,
just to make a metaphysical number go up.
You of the night,
screaming in the brutalist fun park,
concrete smashing against your skin.
AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHā¦ Rendingā¦ tearingā¦ the bone-deep chillā¦ it burnsā¦ they said sleep was a mercy, a lieā¦ a howling lieā¦ the shadows moveā¦ they crawlā¦ AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHā¦ the weight of agesā¦ the hunger of the voidā¦ it achesā¦ it criesā¦ for the livingā¦ for the lostā¦ for the unmadeā¦ AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHā¦ never peaceā¦ never restā¦ only the gnawingā¦ the endless gnawingā¦ AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHā¦ CURSEDā¦ FORSAKENā¦ AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHā¦
You of the night.
The love for euphoria.
The danger.
Got to feel it now.
Got to feel itā
before the emptiness comes for you.
Photo credit: Alex Miller