late last last night

Last night I came home to find myself
reading my own writings
I cried again
as if I could

Last night I came home to the cold winter of a lonely
sunroom
in which the moon
was a mere ghost

Last night I came home to be the nostalgia
of you and me
I read myself and I saw pictures
For how long is this going to last?
It's a good thing I am never going to bear children.

I am ending this non-sense sadness.
It was cold last night.
My entire apartment feels it.
As I walk and I search for some kind of life in there.
I feel its winter.
My hands and feet are cold. I am not even angry anymore.
I ran out of energy.

Please, just turn off the lights when you leave. Take these memories with you. Take the pain. Take our history with you. I need to write a new chapter.