Midnight Blue Lights

is it sad that we only talk when we can’t sleep?

so distracted by our own thoughts that we turn to another’s distraction to falsely thrust us into greener grasses;
a mere prototype of Human Connection - concocted by utterly superficial problems that were written in by our own hand.

is it strange that we only talk when we’re sad?
as if somehow the blinding light of our phones’ digits would be enough to melt the tears away,
and your typed words might materialize into a person sitting next to me -
one that I wouldn’t recognize without the opaque filter of notifications that’s been separating us.

is it bad that we only talk when we want to use each other?
forcing wishes and needs onto one another like safety pins into a rock
until eventually we’re more bent than where we were to begin with

Who Are We Helping?
throwing this pity party of misinterpreted feelings through snapchat messages
so that in the morning, they’ve disappeared
and we no longer have to think of one another

we only talk when can’t sleep, because if we talked any other time, we wouldn’t understand each other
a shared delusion: that one o’clock phrases allow us to speak our mind without sharing a thing
if we talked at any other time, we might actually recognize our problems
which is too much of a risk

so we’ll continue to talk when we can’t sleep because then we can say our piece and forget about each other come the next day

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