The Things I Can't Touch

1 A.M. Thoughts, On a Thursday

This hour of the night is always encased in an orange glow

that emanates like sunlight with warm and keeps away the chill.

This is the hour when I am most honest with myself

I make myself sit and stare at a blank document

and try to type up all the things I have kept in my heart.

In the silence, I am allowed to admit my defeat

and let myself think about the things I have guarded.

This follows a usual pattern: deceiving nostalgia, self-critiques

until I run out of words to release into the empty room

and it once again goes quiet.

So what? I have to ask myself. What now?

I have emptied my pains into the keys,

and released the anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

I feel different now; my issues are not quite resolved but they feel

smaller. I breathe, and for once, my lungs expand and fill

and I am content.