By The Way, I Finished Counting The Stars At 3:17 A.M.

Tonight, I’m skipping over pages in the journal of my life
because they no longer seem perfect.

Stains and wrinkled fabrications unleash the yielding
of my not-so-hidden thoughts and feelings.

Showing my unbearable soul on paper
while only partially watching the outline of this pen
from the dim bulb of a burnt out flashlight.

I think about you.
I hear in my head, “And I saw me in your eyes.
That’s what I saw…
And you'll see yourself in my eyes.
That's what you'll see.”

But, it's only when I look into your eyes,
that I know I’m not leaving.

My eyes sit focused and still on yours.
I only turn away when your eyes
look back at mine.

It scares me to think that
you might feel what I feel.

The consistent, repetitious flickering from the bulb
that I should have gotten fixed used to feel annoying.
Now, when I walk by you, it seems ok to write my heart
down in the dark because you obviously don’t see it.

God’s will seems so far and not findable.
But, I know that’s a lie.
It’s here, it’s now, it’s me, and you know that’s unattainable.

It’s funny; in the dark I cannot see anything.
But, when I’m crying, thinking about you,
that’s the only time the stars seem to light up my room.