This comfortable place where I sit perched… is not my home… and feels all too familiar.

The warmth of the thoughts we share…

Are only what they are… thoughts… and not things that we actually have.

Still we covet them as our own, without regard to the other’s rights to hold onto them… We are thieves of the night…

And as time keeps ticking…  the night is bound to end and I have a long way to travel before daybreak… yet I cannot help but continue to sing song, knowing that you know why caged birds sing…

Songs of being hypnotized without exchanging a single glance, of intoxication minus wine and glass, of passion without so much as a touch of the lips…

We packed light to come so far and have the weight of years on our souls… that when we attempt to fly away, we only make it so far because we break our wings…

And it breaks my heart…

That I can still see you from the short distance traveled, so I come back knowing that when my wings heal once again…

I will have to fly away to the same distance I was before…

Before they break again…

Just before the light of day…

And throughout the day I will endure thoughts of you… How beautiful you are even when you’re broken… and as much as it pains me to say it… come the next night I will walk away to a safe distance and from there fly away…

Leaving the night deafened and still…