4:30am chants

(comforting myself)

i want to sing to you
but my voice is tired and strewn
like exploded tires on highway roads
it's 4:30am and I'm not breathing you in
your scent is all but faded on my pillow case
your body is not pressed against mine
and no touch or fantasy or liquor
can make me forget what i don't have at this moment

i want to write you a song
but my mind is paper chastised by rain
matted and useless until it can be dried
and you, my dear, are light and sun
when you kiss me i shiver
i am drunk and sober all at once
you make my rambling road find that easy silence
and with this thought, I hope to sleep

i hope to sleep

i hope to sleep
with you
waking next to me
in the morning light