Before the dawn, I always wake up to find
last night's dreams sleeping beneath my pillow.
Lights flicker on outside my window
and I just know I'm meant to be alone.
Each morning, I stir my cup of coffee,
diluting it with a cube of sugar.
I don't know why, but it's become routine.
Everywhere I look, I see nothing but love;
unless it is the mirror I look into.
Everytime I breathe, my lungs drown in bleakness;
unless it is the ocean I confess to.
Time slips quietly out the back door -
like an unfaithful husband leaving me,
as I hide behind heavy eyelids tonight.
Into the cold embrace of a star-less night,
I surrender; wishing for change to come
or perhaps, just a distant light to wish upon.
I don't understand why, but it's become routine.
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