Afterhours

When the world sleeps,

I do not.

I dance with the winds of the afterhours,

under the night sky I sit outside...

smoking endless cigarettes...

costumed with mascara 

messily about my eyes.

I think what the restless do

before they fall into slumber-

only I stay awake...

I search the stars 

for comfort,

for answers...

I spend my time with GOD.

A girl and her dog

under the veil of the night

sit silently

feeling an orchestra of emotion within,

wondering where

the sadness stems from-

when it will leave...

and if it indeed does...

where she will be without it.

A heart dissolved within melancholy

waiting to be revived,

yet still on the brink 

of death.