The murky hours of two or three
In the morning
Are unpredictable

I could still be up
I could be
Repositioning shadows on a drawer
Pinching myself
Trying to explain the logic
Of a full-color delusion
To ease my mind
Forgetting I’m alive
Realizing I’m alive

I could be in the middle Of a terrible dream
About my past
Waking up
From it
Did that happen?
Who knows?
What’s that noise?
Probably just the cat
Maybe I should close the door

Maybe I’ll go ahead and get up
And work

I should have a cookie
I should laugh
I may get a pop

Or I could be on the way back to bed
From the fridge
In desire of warm cuddles

I really never know