The night
time
strikes
true at
the right time,
as I stay inside
for the
evening

my window is open,
and my door is shut tight
when
primetime arrives
as the clock
hand
lands on the dime
and comfort lands
on my mind

what better feeling is there than,
a night spent inside,
with a warm cup
of coffee, and a
seeping book to go with it

as the coffee comes out sip,
by sip, the book pours uncontrollably
with the words flooding my mind and
eventually my room
as it
takes me by force and
drowns me, filling my
lungs, and my soul

my soul strengthens
and my lungs breathe
better as they are consumed
by the words pouring in

words from books,
and my own words are all around me
as I sink deeper and deeper
into the wash of imagination
and slowly start
to
dread the  morning to come
when I am pulled out of the
water and the
words evaporate
from my soul
and from my lungs
and the air feels bitter again.