at 9 oclock the city cuts the starlight from your eyes. it separates the image from the thoughts in your mind. it dangles by the thread beneath your awestuck demise, hear it again. the voice within speaks volumes but forgets what it says. no one knows. no one knows but me. with morning comes the apathetic breath of too late. smile for me now. don't forget to hide the stitches, for a lifetime of longing for something more doesn't come without consequences. laugh for me now. don't forget to breathe, for the bright side is the hardest to dive into when you're up to your knees in what used to be.