Where Does It Hurt?
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.