Thrown back to me

2:38 am and I’m at work,
refusing to sleep because of rationality.
So I think of the tap of the keys
and the smooth plastic underneath
scarred skin and I find comfort in the
reality that I am not special.

I saw my vows today,
and found myself wanting,
because rationality has broken over
and I wasted a moment with you.
Where were you?

Where were you when I was dying?
I was caught beneath the landslide
and I dreamed of irrational thinking,
of happiness I never thought would be
because I was always so afraid to get high.

You have it all, and you don’t know it
and I find your irrationality freeing.
So excuse my own rationality
because I’m afraid to lose your insanity.
Afraid to lose it to the sky.

Someone asked,
how many special people change?
Into clothes that reflect the station
and I forgot what it meant
to live in the melody
my fingers create in the tap tap tap.

Rationality grips my nightmares
I want to grip you.
Never letting go in hopes that
when the day comes for me to change
I’m worth something more
than the half written words in my pocket,
the worn out letters on the keys.

Until then I’ll be in the headlight,
screaming at the waking sky,
and living beyond the middle with you.

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