on nights like these i wish that some one was able to dig around deep enough to scoop out all of the sorrow.

on nights like these i take to the streets at 4 in the morning, hoping that direction will come to face me, welcome me, and take me in her arms.

on nights like these, i recall never finishing what someone else started, not being able to and hurting all the while.

it is nights like these that i remember the loneliest days with a father who left. a mother who left. and me wanting to just always leave...