Maybe I should sleep now,

it’s already too late for dreams.

You’re like 3 a.m.—

too late to end, too early to begin.

Maybe I should just stop trying,

fold my hopes, turn off the lights, and breathe.

But even when I close my eyes,

your face still hangs above me.

Maybe someday I’ll see you again,

and I won’t need words to say hello.

Are you doing better these days?

Or still awake, the way I know?

The clock’s hand moves with my breath,

the room is quiet, my heart’s a mess.

I really should be sleeping now,

but you keep waking me somehow.

It’s strange how silence speaks your name,

and how the night remembers you.

I try to rest, but every thought

just leads me back to you.

The clock keeps time with my breath,

it’s quiet, but my mind won’t rest.

I really should be sleeping now,

but you keep pulling me out.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll forget you for a while.

But not tonight.

Not yet.