2.37 AM (5/5/2015)

My mind is clear.

There is silence, but, as I arise
My feet boom on the carpet.
Every shiver on my skin
Rings like a bell in the still air.

When the sky is dark,
My thoughts are bright.
Those creatures of creativity
Must be nocturnal.

Too cold. Crawl back into bed.
I think about my life and love
And I can almost feel how much
My heart wants to burst.

My thoughts are spurning novels.
If it was evening, I’d pick up a pen.
Everybody feels like they could do anything
When they’re awake at 2.37 AM.

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