maybe it’s the whispers of the night that beckon me forth. or maybe the adreneline running from that last bit of mexican instant coffee brewed up at two o'clock in the morning. maybe it’s my longing for a late night online discourse with him. maybe it’s the familiarity of stress under the moonlit sky, sheltered in my two-floored house. maybe it’s the orchestrated songs of the crickets that beckon me to stay awake. maybe the pitter-patter outside my window is like a constant drum beat that numbs my ear drums. or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fear of my bed–the fear the dreams that will haunt me again...

because, i know that they always do.

06/04/2003

Posted on 06/05/2003
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