after all

xxix.

Some roam in duets on uneven sidewalks with their eyes,
big circles of fear, glued
on the apertures that decorate
the road and their existence.

Others thrive and drink
luxury at dawn,
they dance and swim
in the silver moonlight
at past bedtime.

A few cry in bed,
afraid of the light and
exposition, and they find
comfort in the night,
so they pour their hearts out.

Innocent girls sneak out
with their neon lipstick,
craving for adrenaline
and fast kisses on
their perfumed necks.

Broken boys stare at the stars,
wondering how life can get
so fucked up and hopeless,
and all they desire
is a piece of the sky.

She wishes goodnight
to her sick mother as the
darkness gives them
a reassuring pat, and
decorates them with love.

He runs and hides on the
fragmented ground that shakes
under his vagabond steps,
he holds wine and stolen stardust
that once belonged to the others.

The night welcomes all of them
as they seek for something more, something most.