Where Does It Hurt?

3 A.M. and you find me crying.
Just like every other day.
A few beer bottles lying on the floor.
Some burnt out cigarettes
And a crumbled page, still blank.
And I, completely lost staring at the sky
Searching for the constellations
I read about when I was young.

You ask me where does it hurt.
And I look at your face
Silently, for a few minutes
With eyes that have cried too many times
But still haven't learned how to hold back
Before turning away to gaze at the sky again.
I couldn't find the pole star or the Canopus
Perhaps I have forgotten all about them.

Wait! Didn't you tell me to bring apples?
Or was it oranges? Or was it someone else?
I don't remember. I can't remember.
Yesterday I forgot how to spell "ahead"
And then all of a sudden, words lost their meaning.
I sat there staring blankly at the page
Waiting for the letters to come together and make sense.
But they never did and I couldn't sleep at night.

Where does it hurt, you ask. It hurts everywhere.
The crevices of my heart where I keep burying my emotions.
These tired eyes when I squeeze them shut too hard.
The skin on my leg where I carved the word "Why".
But I don't tell you any of this.
Instead I rest my head on your shoulder.
And you hold me close, you hold me tight.
And perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up
From a nightmare into another one
Hoping, maybe it'll hurt less today
Or maybe, it wouldn't hurt at all.