On this night that I call endless, I practice hiding my addictions from 
you. I bury them in the hard sand below maple trees, making empty 
promises to myself that I won't need them again. I cover them with long 
skirts and stockings, never thinking far ahead. I further alienate myself 
from my closest friends and the family that I pushed away years ago and 
single handedly shattered into pieces. and it feels so fucking lonely 
under the fullest of moons tonight. there is so much that i miss, 
sometimes I honestly believe that the people I love are not real, that 
they in fact have never even existed. Which is worse than death in my 
eyes. Because a fluid delusion creeps over my mind and I do not even know 
who is real and who I made up. I'm scared. Because I want you to be real. 
in this night that I call untrustworthy, I conjure up pictures of you. 
not because you are not to be trusted, but because you allow me to stay 
in this reality. I placed my palm flat on the bark of that same maple 
tree and could feel a dull electricity that met and whispered into me 
like laps of water silently gracing the shore. I lay on the grass and 
watched the moon through the leaves, waited for it to change or explode 
or turn into blackness or engulf me or even turn into a giant sphere of 
scintillating liquid.
I just want... I don't know. I want to escape from my mind for just a 
little while, I want ONE SINGLE FUCKING NIGHT'S SLEEP. There are no days 
anymore. I don't know. If you ask me that's what I will tell you.