Late Night by Amber Koneval

kill it

baby, that’s all I hear

kill it like  your head is splitting

like a light, exploding

in the midnight of your cold dark

arms that reach out

you miss me by a millisecond

drowning in the flow of


the kind you feel when you’re empty

and god, you’ll take anything

to fill what the fuck

is in your

hands, like a ball

bouncing from the ear drum

to the larynx

spitting through the tongue

like a gattling gun


through the pelvis

baby this is what we live for

late nights

we don’t apologize for

but we should

because we’re young

and that’s a crime

its a crime to tell ourselves

that we’re this content

with nothing but

late nights

with strangers

alone; surrounded

it’s all the same, but louder

in my head it’d be no different

than this

Amber Koneval

-Not particularly published anywhere other than online (though it is included in one of the manuscripts I’m submitting for publishing), but I always thought this one was funny because it was written when I was completely plastered. The original note-thing it’s written on is really funny.


2 thoughts on “Late Night by Amber Koneval

  1. Love the clipped rhythm of this one Amber – the shortening lines building the tension. Like the notion of the nights we should apologise for but don’t. This is got a great urgent feeling, the feeling of urgency and energy and destruction! Fab.

    • It’s most likely clipped because that’s how I think when I’ve been drinking- this has got to be one of the most weirdly authentic poems that I’ve written. When I write about love encounters or anxiety attacks or happy moments I’m usually writing through the film of nostalgia the next day… but I wrote this in the middle of a party because some guy dared me to write something on the topic of ‘Late Nights’ when I was inebriated. I rather enjoy the end product!

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