It’s 4 AM
I want to sleep
And disappear in my bed
And go to the Mother Dreamland
But instead I’m at my desk
With a blank paper and quivering pen
That refuse to fall in love with each other
And a mind that won’t regurgitate words
And eyes that won’t stay focused

And I see everything
Everything but the paper now
I see the glare of my TV on the wall
Changing colors as quickly as I blink
I see the evil heater that won’t work
Forcing me to put on three sweaters
I see the dying threads in my sweaters
After a losing battle with my dryer
I see the coffee stains on my pajamas
And the cup of coffee that made them

And then I see my paper again
And it’s crying
And the pen is crying
Because now they want to be together
But I’m keeping them apart
And so I write…