I only feel good at night
When I can wear the shadows like blankets
And the solitude like a shield

I’m surrounded by sleeping minds
Ones wrapped up in dreams and other realities
And I’m sensitive to the possibilities
All their minds can conjure
And in my waking state
I capture all their imaginations can create
And I write it all down
In my little blue book

It’s not that I fight against sleep
Sleep is one of the only states I can bear
Unconsciousness is a welcome form of escapism

I seem to only write when it’s dark
Which may explain why all my concepts and ideas
Make other people shudder
All of us have an innate fear of absence
Absence of light
Absence of meaning
Absence of love
Absence of everything

I’m afraid of losing my mind
And not being able to find my way back
Mistaking my imagination for a warped reality