What’s with these late nights of loving and longing and longing to be loved. We all have gaps and it’s not enough to stay up late and try to fill them with stardust. There are only rooms that feel like prisons whether or we are at home or running empty mugs along the counters of dive bars. I’ve thought I could find my better self on the side of the street, thumb out waiting for my old self to pick me up and put me in the passenger seat to go along for the ride. I’m through asking for salvation. I just want the next day to be different from the last. I want to be stared at a little longer. I want to be loved a little stronger. I want one more person to remember me as I the person I hope I am.