MIDNIGHT DANCER

I turn into a ballerina when I'm drunk

Baby 

Watch me twirl 

In a full circle this time

Not that half stop

Crescent moon

Halfway to loving myself

I catch your glimpse in the middle of my doubt

I see the night sky through your window in the middle of my darkness

I crush stars in between my teeth and call it a lost cause

Two middle fingers at the sky

Mocking me in is luminent freckles

Its audacity

Its pureness

That I always struggled to find

To believe
Let it rain on me

No shooting stars

Just rain

Just a kiss from the sky

A promise that its not leaving me out

A promise it's not my fault

My fear

The sky would be a liar wouldn't it

That’s how all the pop stars got there

Blood sweat and tears

But I did that in the dark

Not for roses at my feet or a standing applause but something I didn't even care to fight for

Something I didn't even love

Someone I didnt even love

I just wanted a fight

I fear I’m run dry

I fear that I'm too far behind

I fear that that thought is already a shovel in my gravestone

Does that make me a coward or is it just the honesty of resistance?

I don't know who to ask because I feel like I write just to prove to myself that I love something

Other than comfort

Other than filling my lungs with smoke until it’s a crowded party I don’t want to be at

But lately

I just feel so tired

So many rooms to enter

Stories to write

Dresses to wear

Addresses 

Endings

What if I don't want to do it all?

What if I just want to tell the beach all my thoughts and hire white caps as a publicist?

I relate a lot to them anyway

I think they'd understand why