I like the middle of the night,
it’s the time when I get to be truly alone
with my thoughts, my actions, myself.
Yes, sometimes my mind clicks on ‘him’
and I’m left sobbing for hours
curled up on the hardwood
unable to release myself from the hell-scape in my brain.
But there are also nights
just past 2am, when the neighborhood is silet
and I dance in the kitchen
while baking brownies
knowing that I won’t be interrupted by life.
Some nights I’ll crack a beer,
later than I know I should,
drinking until my head gets hazy
and I remember every damn little thing
that is wrong with myself,
and I question if I can truly get through another night.
And I just want to reach out
to someone who cares,
but it’s too late
to disturb anyone.
I like the nights
when I’m trapped in a book
and I don’t even notice
that the sun set hours ago
or the change from night to morning
until I happen to glance at the clock
that reads 3:30am.
But it doesn’t deter me
as I think Okay, just one more chapter
and shift to my other hip
enjoying my freedom.