my silence fills these empty hallways, it's louder than those stormy nights, because the hailstorm of my mind can thunder through
2AM is the place I like to be, where my thoughts that are too shy can come out once hidden by daylight can now peek out
my ceiling is my new canvas as I stare up into it while laying in my bed, finding hidden images in each of the cracks, where I can picture my untold stories like fables for the future
my voice whispers through the room, no one to hear it because it's not meant for anyone in the first place
just my own self, my hopes, my goals for nobody to judge, it all can disappear without a trace, like a glass that's fogged up by the chilled air outside,
where rain drops are tapping onto the road across my bedroom window over my secrets that are buried six feet below
because, every once in a while, I like to comfort myself in the stillness of dusk, when even the demons I've made for myself are too far out to reach me,
like I've stranded them all at sea.