It’s 5am
And I’m
Tossing and turning
Over things concerning
You and me
And the uprooted seeds
That we continue to water.
Our shadows grow darker
As the Sun catches an attitude.
The universe
Seems to have grown tired of
You and I
Altering our latitudes
After every disagreement.
A year only has four stages
But,
We’re adding seasons,
Infusing excuses
To our everyday lives
To fight,
To overcompensate,
To sugarcoat
And lie.
Back and forth,
Back and forth;
Neither one of us
Can take much more.
And neither one of us
Is more guilty
Than the other
But,
It’s so easy to point fingers
When the source of miscommunication
Has yet to be discovered.
You used to
Only send the type of tingles
Up my spine
That would make me
Want to release.
Now,
My bones are quivering
Out of fear
Of even the idea
Of me
Handing over my peace
To the man
Whose name
Is tattooed across my back.
Perhaps
The moon will be more accepting
Of the heavy shifting
That the morning
Cannot seem to grasp.