Fear of the Past.

In the dark ambiance of stillness

Stillness that comes with early mornings, late nights

Heartbreak swoons around my body

As two A.M. thoughts crowd my mind

Chills creep along my spine,

feather like touches brought upon by moonlight

Memories of romance brought upon by nostaglia of myself

As if broken hearts are dedicated to this temporary nothingness

Full of familiar strangers hushed whispers

Tracing their memory along my palm,

As if it were their lips breathing against my skin,

and not my own.

Fear of falling manifested by their phantom kisses

A weakness we all fear but don't avoid

As if the dappled sunlight in their eyes

Was not made by God to haunt us

Ghosts conjured up by the echo of their laughs

The warm home they provide in the beating of their heartbeat

Still filling the walls of a house

A constant ode to their presence demanding to be noticed, but not filled

Leading to an unraveling at night, the poltergeist of love

Remaining alive in the witching hour

In which most sleep, but the most recently hurt become alive

Fearing falling, fearing the night

In the dark ambiance of stillness

Early morning, late night, kind of whispered and broken romace

With me, myself, and champagne drunken starlight