Tuesday Night

Ten o’ clock on your bed
Music through your ears
and on your mind
Nostalgia flowing through your pen
filling pages with sorrows
and laughter
Laptop open to check on friends
while curled up in sweatpants
leaning against the window
showing yet another starless night.

You stare at dreamcatchers
wondering if they do their
jobs too thoroughly.
Tissues litter your desk
as evidence of the cold
that decided to catch you,
and a room freshly cleaned
is already getting dirty
with emotion and worn out clothes

On the walls are windows
to places out of reach to you
and mirrors showing
exactly where you don’t want to be.
Old gift wrapping paper
crumpled on the floor
mocks the way
you live in the present
and
the candle that smells like her
reminds you of the fire
consuming your cold, aching heart
every moment you pace these walls
alone and annoyed
wishing it were anything but
another breathless night.

By Kai Katyin, 16, John F. Kennedy School, Berlin, Germany