'I didn't know you had it in you;interesting.'
But I know something you don't know;
I know more about the night.
Yes, I know how cold it gets when
children are tucked safely in bed,
how long the alley goes outside my window
and just how much the moon hates the earth.
It seems as though it's a leo,
stealing the spotlight away from us all,
making us all feel so intolerably small,
only sharing its light to point out our blemishes;
such a vein fettish it has.
No, I don't only speak of rainbows.
I do not think the world is a pretty place
and my mind does not run slow.
It races, lapping Seahorse atleast three times
before I've realized I'm racing.
I do not burn bridges; instead,
I let them melt away, like the snow on a january day,
and watch them fall to pieces and drip
through my hands and finger creases.
I walked through the dark with no hand to hold but my own,
Don't tell me I don't know these morose things I've known.
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