I'm, too;
caffeinated to sleep,
****** to be awake,
Anxious to be thinking
And
Afraid to ask for a hug.
As a result,  
I'm  thinking about God, death and us.
To be honest, I'm not even sure
which I'd least want to think about.
I've never had faith in anything, really.
Well, aside from the inevitably of my death,
Which I don't want, yet, I'm not ready.
If God was around,
I'm sure his or her gaze
has been pushed elsewhere.
And
There's us.
Well,
there's you and I.

If I'm the pen, you're my paper.
I'll push my lips against your skin,
Spill my guts against you
Write every word of love and passion.
But you won't be able to read it.
So, you'll never see what I mean.