Where Does It Hurt?

3 A.M. and you find me crying.

Just like every other day.

A few beer bottles lying on the floor.

Some burnt out cigarettes

And a crumbled page, still blank.

And I completely lost staring at the sky

Searching for the constellations

I read about when I was young.

You ask me where does it hurt.

And I look at your face

Silently, for a few minutes

With eyes that have cried too many times

But still, haven't learned how to hold back

Before turning away to gaze at the sky again.

I couldn't find the pole star or the Canopus

Perhaps I have forgotten all about them.

Wait! Didn't you tell me to bring apples?

Or was it oranges? Or was it someone else?

I don't remember. I can't remember.

Yesterday I forgot how to spell "ahead"

And then all of a sudden, words lost their meaning.

I sat there staring blankly at the page

Waiting for the letters to come together and make sense.

But they never did and I couldn't sleep at night.

Where does it hurt, you ask. It hurts everywhere.

The crevices of my heart where I keep burying my emotions.

These tired eyes when I squeeze them shut too hard.

The skin on my leg where I carved the word "Why".

But I don't tell you any of this.

Instead, I rest my head on your shoulder.

And you hold me close, you hold me tight.

And perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up

From a nightmare into another one

Hoping, maybe it'll hurt less today

Or maybe, it wouldn't hurt at all.