Did the sky turn into wet ink
Are these stars letters,
The universe could never send
As if the midnight swallowed
All those stars
Or do my tears paint everything in sadness
Or did the sky turn into poison
And every drop tastes like,
The words It swallowed
Like needles pressing
Into its tongue
The wind looks quite miserable
Through the ribs of night
And the moon hangs there
Like a lantern
Tired of it’s own light
I observed the night a little too much today
It was grieving I suppose
Or do I just find pain
In everything that glows?