melted

why i don't ramble just past midnight

those thoughts you have in the middle of the night, the ones that keep you up, every miscommunication, argument, keep going until you reach a point of exhaustion, you'll fall asleep but the feelings were never handed that letter to cease and desist, you've collapsed on the stairs on the way there but by the time a jury is called you'll be off to the races again, schoolwork and work work and that kid who won't shut up and that kid that you never want to shut up and that kid who definitely hates you and that kid who you don't know hates you, none of the words in any of their permutations are better than each other, they've been molded to fit your lives, your standards, your hopes and dreams and values and beliefs, that's why i write with a vendetta against myself, to make things more approachable, it is misunderstandable and you heard me incorrectly, everything is not as it seems and it's not up to you to determine whether it's better or worse, you'll go back to real life when the sun rises, nothing matters except for the immediate future, your brain is wiped clean of all of the early day's mistakes, it's almost as if it was last week, you are last week, you are nothing, you're doing it again, your brain is on overload, you're not sure if you left the refrigerator running or not, you know everyone hates fakes which means that everyone hates you, you're nothing like what it said on the package, the application form does not match your description, smuggled in from over dreaming seas, screaming please, let me out, it's your brain on morning as the clock strikes midnight, watch it keep running miles ahead of you, start panting when you're an eighth of the way in, the allergies you never knew you were allergic to clog up your throat just like the words you haven't said and will never say, when you stop listening people call you ignorant but when they realize it's because you need to breathe they call you a fighter, cinderella could have never dreamed of such tattered rags and shattered glass-slipper dreams as you ski down the slopes of your mind when an avalanche hits
and you wake up