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MIDNIGHT
MIDNIGHT
Friends
Call me alive
Call me altruistic
Call me artistic
Others
Parents
Call me different
Call me edgy
Call me distant
Call me erratic
Call me detached
Call me eccentric
But at midnight
Alone
No expectations,
No estimations,
No limitations;
No straight lines,
No measurements,
No calculations;
Nothing to bar or bare the way
Nothing to plan or hope or seek
Nothing to do but wait for morning -
Who am I?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Am I these things
Any,
All?
One of those masks of generic
Neutrality
Stereotypical prototypes
Never finished
Never right
Every experiment
Moving closer
To the perfect
Unknown?
Who am I at midnight?
Can’t read grade point averages
Too-small print
In Times New Roman font
On legal-size paper
The same colour
As crumbled eggshells
In the sink
Can’t see my reflection
In the full length mirror
I hate so much
Yet can’t tear my eyes from
In the morning getting dressed
Or just about every other time
I walk by
Can’t hear the echo
Of words spoken aloud in the dark
Secrets, lies, hopes, and wishes,
Love and lust
Bridges burned
Castles built
For white knights
…Or maybe just dragonflies
Tonight.
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