at night

amidst the chaos and loud voices, 

hides peace within a socket of a spring night, 

the peace encapsulates me, devours,

at first, it feels perfect,

the flickering lightbulbs,

the curtains fluttering from the faint blowing of the wind, 

i take a breath in, 

releasing the ache in my back as i breathe out, 

this ache disperses throughout my being, 

 relieved,

then suddenly,

with a sudden, strong surge, with blowing winds come our memories, forgotten,

the echoes of laughter, the subtle eye contact and the deafening flutters of the butterflies, 

these memories haunt me, 

they remind me of a past ruined, 

a deteriorating playhouse, 

a haunting song that we once called ours, 

these winds hold sockets of suffocation, 

ones I am trapped within, 

i scream and hide and yell and shout, 

yet i start to dissolve within the socket, 

trapped, 

the memories swarm around me reminding me of the daunting truth, 

that you no longer exist anymore, 

so i run, 

remain within the crowd, 

surrounded by the type of influence my mother told me to avoid, 

i chase people, 

hold onto them,  

so that the peace stays far away, 

so that these memories remain forgotten, 

so that you remain dead, 

i run, 

i run, 

i run.