Late at night
I am every existential crisis that
You failed to recognize, every
Pale computer screen and
Empty stomach
Scratching the back of your throat for the right words
That you barely knew how to pronounce
The crush of cigarette filters between bruising fingers
A sideways smile dimly lit by sidewalk street lamps,
Thin, sarcastic line, like a crack in a wall
Unfocused, unhindered, unspoken
And finally Understanding thatβs all it ever was,
or ever will be.
