the fireworks have all been used up,
the glitter and glamour long gone.
in this hotel room at exactly 2 a.m.
I’m thinking, “This place is too pretentious for my dirt-cheap taste.”
sitting on this bathroom floor with a half-empty cola beside me,
I’m wondering how I even got to this point.
it’s the late-night, early-morning rumination that kills me
when all is asleep and peaceful.
twisting and turning in bed,
the crunch of bones, the lullaby snores.
I hear delirious laughter in the next room
and I’m still sitting on this floor,
quite lost, quite confused,
and I realize,
there are only two kinds of people in this world:
The ones that weep when the world is in slumber
and the ones that sleep well because they know they are loved.