Full Moon Melt Downs

Dear Moon,

It's about that time in the night where typing on my laptop sounds more like a jack-hammer, & I wax/wane over another glass of the hard's the awkward hour. I'm awake. I know I shouldn't be, and then there's the in-between, or.. outside opinions should we say? 

Anyways. I partially blame you. You're a tempter. Your light's far too bright for me to sleep, so I digress in this ransacking of wine, pilfering of whiskey & inhalation of far too many cigarettes. 

In a perfect world I could water color this out, or use sign language...something far quieter than this method of communication. Instead I water down my wine, type as mouse-like as possible & pray I do not disturb anyone enjoying a normal night's rest.

I'm far from upset, granted you only do this once a month or so, but I've got a long holy weekend ahead & damn I'm not kicking it off to a good start. Furthermore, I've been dealing with some ghosts that seem to be in/out of my heart like boy with a guitar.

(In fact, that's just what they are.)

Wish I could shine as bright as you,

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