I like it at night,
Pacing through the house,
Just my thoughts and me,
Quiet like a mouse.

Cleaning up the messes,
Putting away the day,
Reflecting on each hour,
Resetting the sun’s play.

I light a candle or two,
Letting shadows softly dance,
The flickering glow reminds me
That darkness still has chance.

I sip water from my cup,
Feeling gratitude’s gentle weight,
Thankful for these silent hours
Before tomorrow awakes.

Sometimes I’ll play music,
Maybe I’ll softly sing,
This quiet time with the Universe,
Planning intentions I hope she’ll bring.

My nights
float between sleep
and
sounds around me—
my mind drifting
to the shores of rest
and the isles of wakefulness
until I open my eyes
only to wish them
closed again.

Be, be, be
Everything rhymes
Why is it me?

Me, me, me
I don't want to be
I just want to see
See colours and flavours and,
everything I cannot be
things I want to see
things when I try to breathe
To relieve myself of things I need
Things I need and ways I feed

Feed, feed, feed
Feeling like food is not how it's supposed to be
Not how I should feel
Food is an enemy, food is a friend
Food nourishes to no end
So why oh why does it hurt to eat?
It shouldn't, that's why,
we all try not to eat

Try, try, try
I cannot comprehend why
Me oh no I
why do I try
Everything they do just makes me cry
Just be normal
Just be kind
All I want
Is to wake up and see the light
Light from which I no longer have to try
to see,
cry,

Maybe it's better to sleep at night

I can’t move,
I can’t wake up
I’m screaming for you.
Shake me
Slap me (if you can without hate)
Wake me up
But my brain dropped the gate

the beauty, the resolute stillness of night
and the absence of a day's wreckage, too
is no consolation for that greater hollow
which yet darkens my countenance
and voids my soul

but in the aches of time, all shall emerge complete
if unfilled then at least whole —
holy, even — under better eyes than mine
more open eyes than mine, heavy under insomnia

so, in passing with the moon,
that complete and empty dawn will arrive by a close of the eyes, a gentle descent to sleep

which is why it cannot come so easily,
lest the waking day illume my solitude