She loves the world at 2:30 in
The morning
One thing people have yet to ruin
For her
Wandering streets she cannot recognize
Without the decoding powers from daylight
Sometimes she walks
Sometimes she runs
Sometimes she bikes
Other times she does her dance
Because it is dark
And eyes can not locate her
Never resting figure
And judge her inability to dance
At 2:30 in the morning she's high in a tree
Nearly asleep watching the stars
Begging for a star to follow her stare
And fall
Finally watching the sun rise around 4
Through 5
But 2:30 is when the world holds her hand
And tells her she is not alone