monksta

two lovers on a rooftop,
one staring at the moon,
feeling remorse, feeling swept away
with paintbrushes and soft touches
she moves,
another crying in her arms,
his head buried deep down,
full of romance, full of life
that seems to be
breaking down,

this house is a burning keg,
a powder trail on fire,
and one man in an empty bed
is deciding its time to leave forever
one woman on a front porch
losing her love a second time,

two lovers in a kitchen
holding each other tight
not knowing they are in love yet,
but doing it to get through the night,

and a boy unaware of who he is
sitting on the edge of the dock
reading a paper napkin poem a guy wrote
and giving it all his thought

a girl trapped with the cursings
of being what she once was
is trying so desperately to free herself
she's falling apart just because

and what does all of this have to do with me
with me, this boy in the midwest
taken aback with such emotion, such conviction
such passion, that his heart won't hold back

not much you see, these are just stories
just memories, just lines on a blank page,
taken from some full moon dreariness
or a cloudy book reading day

but perhaps, i'm a part of each one,
unknowingly or subconciously,
and have been so afraid to figure out
that being a part of so many degrees,
complications, feelings
isn't as bad as it sounds

i see the stars behind the moon,
the man inside smiling quite proud,
i am awake this evening with tears
and with smiles and proud.