late at night.

wondering why i’m still awake. everything is sharper and although my feet are cold, my head is clearer than it’s been in awhile and words aren’t so hard to reach. little conversations seem more worth it and it’s one of those times that its hard to imagine anyone is doing anything but sitting quietly in the homes, quietly in 24 hour restaurants, doing anything buy being quiet. except for the cars which are loud outside my window, but even then their drivers are sure to be quiet. tell me the things you’re afraid to say when the sun can read your lips. tell me your nighttime wonderings, the things that keep you awake thinking and writing and questioning.