Every now and then I lay awake at night.
Staring out my window as the moonlight covers me in bedsheets made of allusions piercing through my half-shut curtains.
Reminding me to pray, even though there's no gods to pray too.
Faith escapes through my finger tips and I've learned so graciously to live being lost.
I've learned to unconditionally love the angst in my veins and embrace the pessimist that I am.