It's Midnight. At Midnight We Do Midnight Type Of Shit.

City lights,

so unique.

sidewalks,

mostly the same.

This time, it's personal.

It just takes too much energy to keep you lit up little one. This is not sustainable, post renewable (Wait there's a poem here I think).

She has phases like the moon,

each wax and wane equally predictable.

I live by a lunar calendar.

My fat ass: *looks at the nutrition label*

"If you adjust calories for inflation, I'm actually under eating."

We loved with such difficulty,

We loved with tremendous struggle,

But it was always with great pleasure.

I once lived a very Eeyore-ian life. Now I am tickled pink at the absurdity of it all. The contradictions and hypocriticals of living an authentic life.

Matador State Beach.

Her beauty was as rare as counting to infinity.

Exponential in grace.

Equal parts predictable to irrational and a dash of paradoxical.

But still she contained all the answers to the universe if one just cared to do the math.

The stains of human history

can never be erased,

only masked over until tolerable.