Midnight Hour

It is not exactly midnight but 1:49am

A cigarette burns between my finger tips

Rare for a filter to touch these lips sober

But my mind is full of Shakespeare and Oliver and a longing only found in the subtle recesses of night

When the world awaits another sunrise

When only the lovers and heartbroken and artists are alight

I feel alive

ALIVE

How many nights on hands and knees

Face towards heaven did I beg for just this

To be alive again

The numbness my first defense against

The crimson flood of living

Let me feel nothing at all lest the feeling of anything at all bleeds true

The numbness once a relief now concrete for these seeds to grow through

Not tonight though

Tonight I am alive

ALIVE

I am buzzing with the simple magic of quiet smoke and words finding their first cry

It all feels new

IT FEELS

A soft cotton dress on my naked frame

My hands hovering over the coffee table

Wooden and stained

Bringing life to the world between my eyes

By God

I’m alive

I will not pass through this threshing floor without every tear finding air and every laugh filling the room

I will not pass through

Every yearning of creation fight

Find this midnight stair towards something greater than survival and biding time

I am alive

ALIVE

It is not exactly midnight but 2:04am

The world awaits another sunrise but not I

I will stretch this moment a bit longer with the cigarette between my fingertips

Begging this moment to remain

To refrain from future plans and daily duties and allow right now to be alive

By God

I’m alive