It’s twelve past midnight
My eyes still won’t shu
My head still wander around
I can feel the emptiness of the space around me

My cup of coffee sits in front of me telling
Why won’t you rest?
My folks are sleeping tightly with their beds Still here at the dining room laying down thoughts. The ticking of the clock fills the air and the lound engine that hovers over our heads.

My eyes hurt but still it know no shutting Now my head is on a stranded isle of strangers star gazing
It looks above above a blanket of stars with lady moon
With a man below with his fiddle playing tunes and croons.

Cold air chills my bones
I seek comfort from my warm coffee and the taste bittersweet yet flowery in the soul. Through the twisted sheets of words and it’s intricate weaves I found comfort in me.

I feel like sinking into oblivion and felt that no one will look for me.
But the more I paddled to float I sunk into deep nothingness
Is someone out there who wants to join me?

My head filled with thoughts
 I wish I could put it into brine so someday I could eat it up and remember it.
Thoughts fill my lungs and breathe out words so silent even my ears can’t hear.

A gentle tune from my clarinet croons my dazed head
And felt my shoulder hang low
My weary heart started to beat slow
My body felt a stand still and my eyes gently clasped shut.