if i ask you a question
at 3 a.m
please forgive me for the weight of my words.
i’ve been intoxicated by my coffee and poetry
and the music has been circulating through my veins.
at this time of night,
my tongue is controlled by my heart
i blurt out words i know i should hold back.
i used to love that song,
it’s pulse was synced to my own.
but now it reminds me of the way my
sad eyes wandered around when
my mind couldn’t focus on a single thought.
now it reminds me of the times i would sit
convincing myself that i was destined
to be nothing more than a wilting wall flower.
now it reminds me of the sleepless nights
and the endless thoughts of
“will i ever be enough?”
“will i ever fall asleep?”
i don’t like that song anymore,
maybe one day it will all be a faded memory
but today it stings.
a bit restless, a bit reckless.
don’t push me too far,
might jump just for fun.
you might be afraid,
but i will be free.
diving into unconquered space,
oh, i’m on my tippy toes, just say the word.
thoughts like fists around my throat,
growing unconscious from its tight hold,
this was how i used to fall asleep.
If I could, I’d drive a long stretch of the highway and keep driving until something caught my attention. In the car would be music that thumps in my chest and spills lyrics on my tongue. I’d turn on a slow jam just as the sun begins to set. I would draw out that moment and breath the crisp air of the birthing night. Windows down, hollow sounds. Once night drapes it’s arms around the sky, the music would reflect darkening excitement. Music and open road. No thoughts of home or destination. Just the rumbling of the base and the overflow of words that mean all too much to me.