I’m holding on to so many things it seems. Between love and life and imaginary dreams, my heart aches with a constant loss for things that do not exist. Once on the bluest moon I will see him, staring my direction but never making eye contact unless speaking directly to me. I can’t be around him so I busy myself with other things that cause no attention. I feel like I am carrying a weight in my pocket, right in front of my heart. It hits me when I walk and flattens me when I sleep. It never get’s any lighter but in contrast, feels heavier, once on a very blue moon. Hours seem late now, or early I guess you could say. Insomnia has a way of making my life a living masterpiece of goblins and ghosts with aliens that want to beam me into the next life- and all I want to do is sleep. Sleep has a price, and the dreams that I pay for are expensive, just like the things I long for in life. I have a little sadness in my pocket, and it is the heaviest on a blue moon.