3 am and i cant sleep, the time of the creative when the words wont keep.
They wake me up as they dance through my head stories and poetry weave as i lay in bed.
I give in sit up to write a few lines down, before i know it lost in the flow i drown.
Morning comes all too soon and items of the day begin to consume.
As i go through the day taking care of the mundane, I am secretly writing narratives some would think i am insane.
When i am lost in a dark place i write until i find my way out. Let the words pour and empty as i cry and shout.
I may seem disconnected in a crowd but i am just overwhelmed because the voices are loud.
Don’t know how to turn the volume down just part of me i guess. But I’ve learned to make do more or less.
Have to be careful and remember though
Don’t push, keep pace, they don’t know.