long late soundless nights
draw on and on
but never long enough to get any rest.
its all the same,
the same songs that make me think
the same thoughts about
the same people, or lack thereof.

routine day after day,
of nothing but rotting,
eating, sleeping, and crying,
emotionless, and motivationless,
numb.
yes, the warm sun feels nice,
but the cool silence of the moon
keeps me comfortable company.

it’d be nice to go on a walk at 2am
and have those deep conversations
we wished we had with each other.
just you and me, until the sun came up.
instead, its the memory of you
and what could have been
that keeps me up until the first snowfall.

this, is summer.