And I howl unto you,
the back breaking over a glass of cold water.
Within seconds, my teeth are lost
in a sea of ivory and sunburnt cells;
the waves stop crashing and give up the fight.

And I howl unto you, the confused beast sleeping in the afternoon.
You are forgotten by the outside world, a mere
byproduct of nocturnal neon lights and the neverending noise.
You don’t cry anymore, for no one will listen.

And I howl unto you,
the pathetic ghost that finally wakes up.
The sun has already set, the world has left you behind.
And so in the dim glow of your phone set against
the cerulean walls that birthed me, I watch you howl
into the night.