A Daydream on Midnight

In the silence of the night where the sparrows find nests to rest on, I lay down thinking of the perfect love story of a perfect love. Where even the perfect place at the perfect time leads to the perfect tragic ending.

Hands strike twelve. If the clock only knew of the melody my heartstrings could play, it would stop and turn the other way. But all it could do is run out of power and stop and lie and tell me the world stood still.

Cripes. Another day to waste my time thinking of everything that has got to do with you. And whatever time I have left I waste wishing I had more time.

I think the world of you. But you only made me think I exist in your world. Each single time you stole my heart, you never gave it back. Everytime you took my breath away you killed me bit by bit… piece by piece.

You bastard. You left me with everything I loathed of remembering.

And this deafening silence reminds me of the ever-present distance between us, never shrinking, but infinitely drawing out. I hate missing what was never there, I hate reminiscing the times you pretended you cared.

But when everything is settled and peaceful and quiet, I think of the times we had. Every cherished moment rattles through my brain as if it were everything I dreamt of… Damn it you are everything I ever dreamed of.

In the silence of the night where sparrows find nests to rest on, I lie down thinking of our perfect love story of our perfect love. Where the perfect ending is full of beautiful lies that would forever remain as daydreams during midnight.