2am Thoughts

by Makenzie Campbell

Do not let the dust collect in your soul.

Forever in a trance by your noncommittal romance.

When I’m with you I have all these words inside me ready to paint the world, but when they emerge, they are black and white because the colors get caught in my throat.

You paint me suns and flowers and beautiful landscapes only to go back and change them to storms.

We create storms. Brutal, beautiful storms. So loud and bright they wake the neighbors. But no one helps to calm them nor do they hide in safety. They just stare, mesmerized by our show. They cannot tell if it started with vexation or infatuation. They cannot tell if we are falling in love or out of it.

The monsters don’t live in my closet or under my bed. They are the collection of thoughts inside my head.

I’m standing in the center of a crowded room and I’m still only searching for your ghost.

Love is a confusing thing and needs to be held with gentle hands.

Then we look back with heavy eyes and say, “Oh, that must have been love.”