3.05am

i couldn't sleep so i reached for my pen instead.


I wish cameras could capture what eyes see. They only get a meager representation. The purples and oranges, dark shadows under the sculpted, yet slightly neglected, shrubbery. The shadows loom long, down the slight incline onto the street. I am a visitor, observing a world behind glass. The cars sit quietly as extensions of the landscape, emptied of their connection to actual life. Even the cars moving by seem devoid of life; quick creatures with eyes beaming through the dark, following their trail. Aside from the occasional hum it's otherwise silent at this hour. The sirens have calmed. The streetlights no longer serve to light the way, but to illuminate the air in specific pattern, like organized stars. They mimic my own lights which frame my window, my looking glass. A microcosm of this outer world. I will extinguish mine, but those larger orbs will continue to glow for a few more hours, until the sun takes their place of shining through my curtains, casting gold on all it touches. I hope sleep finds me before the slight trickling of life awakening thickens and invades my still dreamscape behind the glass.