Sincere (Nervous Self-Conversation)

It took me a long time to realize what nights were really for

I always thought it was for fucking, or alcohol, or music

Or for staring at computer screens till your eyes went bloodshot

But I now know why the sun goes down

I now know why night time amplifies the softest of sounds

Nights are for hoping you don't break mirrors for staring into your reflection too hard

Nights are for listening to the moon tell you how it's not jealous that people dance for the sun

Cause it knows that when people want their loved ones to hear the songs they sing

The always sing them in the moonlight so only the people who are trying hard enough can hear

The night's for knowing that darkness doesn't cultivate fear

It sows truth for the people who are willing to harvest it

To reach into shadows and dirty your hands with the iniquities and injuries

That come from the acquisition of wisdom that can never happen during the day

When everyone's saying the first thing that comes to mind

It doesn't give the spirit room to breathe

It doesn't give the pre-frontal cortex enough time to make nervous conversation

With the heart about the impending realization and enlightenment

That love is not always the answer we want it to be

It's the answer we're willing to accept

I've taken hard slaps to the face because I thought the bruises would

be a distraction and take attention from the dirt and dust I let

Gather on my hope and my trust

There was dirt and dust on my hope and my trust from not being exercised

enough

I can't count how many times I over-thought every hello, goodbye, and how are you

My paranoia ran wild with the fantasies of ulterior motives and arguments made moot

Like unicorns run wild from being called fantasies for so long

Give anything make believe the chance to be reality and it will go on for days

About how good it feels to be self-actualized

Stretching its wings, tensing its torso, plodding its hooves through soft, damp clay

Till it can fly back into your imagination at night in the form of dreams, and nightmares, and

Hours staying up looking at computer screens till your eyes go bloodshot

Till you preoccupy yourself with fucking, or alcohol, or music to get your mind

Off the night time truth that not everything you slept on will be there in the morning

You won't always be able to hold onto your loved ones

What song do you want to sing to them?

The moon is always listening.