Words

 

Every night before I go to bed I find myself staring up at my ceiling. I'm not sure why I do, maybe the time will go faster as 1 AM hits 2. I stare at the ceiling and close my eyes but it's the same black color as before. Was the ceiling always this boring? Maybe it wasn't before. Back when we'd point our flashlights at the ceiling making shadow puppets in the sky. Back when we'd set up your film projector towards the ceiling and the time would pass us by. Back when I could close my eyes and listen to the sound of your heart beating through your chest. Back when I knew that staring up at the ceiling was the moment that would hurt the best. Now I stare up at my ceiling with my thoughts scrambled in my brain. Was there anything I could've done to make you stay with me anyway? Even months later as the hours fly by, I stare up at my ceiling and you've never left my mind.