Endless Nights

On cold endless nights such as this…

I glance at my right palm

And traced every curved line connecting my wrist to my fingertips

Trying to recall each story and how it was formed;

Stories that created bridges, but mostly scars.

I take a sip

Of my warm, yet bottomless cup of regrets

And its smoke whispers to me

The imprudent mistakes I’ve done to hurt you,

Plus, the squandered bliss that caused us affliction.

And with every single sip I take,

Its bitter aftertaste keeps on getting stronger.

Yet I still choose to seek for more

For it is the only substance that keeps me awake

During these busy night skies of April.

On cold, tiring nights such as this…

I hold my breath;

Slowly count up to three

And think of the elements that I miss most about you –

One – The redolent scent of your lilac hair;

Two – Those starry eyes of yours full of twinkling dust;

Three – Your personality so vibrant in every hue.

And once I exhale,

I get to release every vague emotion inside me

All of it, except for one – nostalgia.

Every night, I yearn for home

And every night, I realize

That I should have chosen passion over profession;

Maybe – I should’ve waited much longer and stayed with you.

So this frigid, yet hopeful night

I stood up from this tattered desk;

Let go of every pen and paper;

And finally break free from these latched doors of remorse.

Now here I am – reaching out to you, my firelight

I hope you wait for me.

For the warmth of your embrace is where I belong –

And once I find you, we’re home.