Dry night

Its going to be a dry night,
At least for me,
I have no intention
of crying anyways.

mother is getting old,
father wasn't my first love
and I need more than
a pair of hands to count
all the things I've lost

she still is
every dream I have,
a street light, a chirping bird
on a peach sunrise
and a handful of smiles-
though she left like
a stranger that day

..I'm here with my head
on my pillow, with nostalgia
singing the blue's beneath
my ribs, with my arms wrapped
in this cold blanket, and poetry
escaping my thoughts

Its going to be a dry night,
At least for me,
I have no intention
of crying anyways.