The Sun is my lucky star, and the Moon is my favorite rock.

That empty feeling is coming back.

˚˚∆˚˚

Tonight I lit a cigarette hoping it would calm my nerves.

As the tip began to glow red it feel from my hand.

What a mess.

I wondered around my back yard hoping to stare at the Moon,

but like most things I seem to be searching for now a days, it was nowhere to be found.

A walk, good idea.

As I turned the corner I finally spotted it, glowing in half it's majesty.

Through glasses the Moon seems to sparkle.

I found a bright star and tried to make it my lucky one, but I found no warmth from it.

I realized I already had one.

The Sun is my lucky star, and the Moon is my favorite rock.

I inhaled and felt the smoke steal some of my life away.

What was I doing? I didn't want this, I didn't need it.

I threw it down and took a deep breath.

At least my lungs were happy.

˚˚∆˚˚

Sleep deprivation makes depression easy to catch.

Of the things I get too little of, sleep is right up there, probably next to nourishment.

˚˚∆˚˚

I walked to a bridge close to where I live, the elevation seemed comforting.

As I got closer, the lights surrounding it casted four long shadows around me.

Finally, I wasn't alone, I had an entourage.

A train was was coming, due north.

At the top of the bridge I could pretend that I was on the tracks below without getting hurt.

The lights came closer and I could feel myself getting excited,

a rush,

a danger,

blood pumping.

Before it "hit" me, it stopped, right in the middle of everything.

You think life does things like this on purpose?

˚˚∆˚˚

My entourage and I headed home, deep breaths, slow steps.

I locked myself out.

If I were a braver man, I would have kept on walking.

THE SUN IS MY LUCKY STAR, AND THE MOON IS MY FAVORITE ROCK.