She stayed awake at night-
Talking to the stars,
Lullabying the moon,
lighting up her cigars,
listening to an old tune,
and weaving her future
with the passion of a new bloomer.
she would smile suddenly at night
thinking she was with her Mr Right
then in the morning, everything felt chaotic
like the previous night was an illusion optic
Oblivious to the fact that a new poem is written
where she doesn't have to wear the mask of pretence.