I only feel safe at night
when the wind forms a sort of shield
and greets my ears with the static of the miles that it yields.
Everything has the potential of sound
I'm calm but on the edge
combining past successes and future obsessing
for a present so giftless.
The day is much too arrogant
I'm turned off, I turn away.
Seeing in darkness things discreetly, deeply felt,
things you can't unlearn away.
While I am alone
the night she likes company
and shallow breathed prayers
and the well laid plans of somebody
who doesn't know quite why
they feel better at night