Do you ever get the feeling?
When you know that you won't sleep,
The a certain kind of quiet,
That seems to never leave,
A pounding in your ear and a whisper in the dark,
Seem to be the only things keeping us apart,
It's 1am and here I am,
Contemplating life,
Playing it off cool,
When I'm engulfed with fright,
And that's when it happens,
Your creative juice starts flowing,
Even though it can feel quite freaky and alarming,
You reach for pen and paper,
Bleed out your so called closure,
Continue to do this,
As the days get older,
And here you are with blood stains on your sleeve,
And demons in your sleep,
It feels like one of those night perfect to stay awake