In the middle of the night I’m certain that a smile is present. I can’t guarantee it. In the middle of my dreams I can see you. I can sense a crack in the corner of that smile. In the dark of this night I wish upon the night to see those eyes. To see that smile. I wish upon a corner of this room.
When the eyelids close the day seems brighter. The little magic pill does no good when the memory finds its own reason. The first hour, dream a little tv. A comedy of errors with laughter upon the changing channels. The second hour the bright stars keep the brown eyes open. The world spins, the clock ticks, the hotel room is starting to become home again.
Hour three the magic pill is trying to break the cycle. Nothing makes sense yet the deep end looks shallow. All the fears and headaches are making the eyes burn. The mirror in the bathroom has a stranger starring at it. Hour four I can see the purple. I can see the angels. I can drift away.
Hour five the blood boils and the smile is replaced with frustration. Don’t have to tell you where the second hand is. Yet the tears are real, they run down the side of the smile and fill the glass of wine. I can see an angel smile.
If I live for tomorrow and my sleep wakes you. Please let me know about the smile. It should say what is inside this soul. It has a definition. If you sleep and and you should smile then its impossible to refuse. Dream as if you have arrived but find a reason to stay.
Hour six nothing stays inside. There is no cure for insomnia. Walk around this room studying the walls. I’m only human and a harvest does not exist for if I shall then vinegar will soak my dreams. In time age will grant me the peace of another night to dream. And just maybe, a smile with my eyes closed.
Dream as if the world knows why you smile. Live as if only you know whats behind the smile. Elegantly find the truth. Sophisticatedly give reason directions. Scream softly to those nightmares. Soak up the beautiful dreams. Don’t ask me. Just live.
Hour seven the sun light shines through the hotel curtains. Another restless night, who needs sleep anyway. Me!
