Dawning Creations

You know I don’t boast.
I post to bring us closer.
If not, actually, “us”,
then, you, with anyone
who makes you feel, anything, at all.

I know, it’s getting rough out here.
We’re all struggling, somehow.

But I don’t want to do it alone, this time.
I’ve been spending too much time at home.
I know.
I’m tired of spending nights, in solidarity
with, Three A.M.,
keeping me up until morning’s first light.
She leaves me in angst, without my wits about me.
The very next day, I’m feeling her heated sting.
But, Three A.M., has a way of challenging my flexing, compromising,
bringing on the worry,
reminiscing or thoughts of you.

There was a short time,
when I conceived
that late nights
would bring inspiration and a clearer view.

Staring out my window, biding my time, while,
the highway cars rush along, whooshing,
reminding me, my visions were skewed.

Obsession or passion,
doesn’t matter which,
when you’re already under the ground.
I’m chatting with her until dawn,
about thoughts, beautiful, and morose.

You’re fantastical, my imaginaty kind.
We share our wavelength,
so you don’t mind me coming along
for the ride, on this rampant, raging, rollercoaster called life.

I felt like this made sense
when I was college,
dodging sleep to keep lines
coming, being better than
who I was.

I’m learning to live,
during the in-between,
within whooshing of highway cars
and wind blowing through autumn leaves.
Slowing down,
progressing in getting to know
the stranger in me.

Nights with Three A.M. brought
memories back around,
sleepless and cagey,
I’ve debated with the ghosts
I’ve buried.

However,
aging like fine wine
sounds better to me.