Water

I’m usually awake

During the midnights,

Drafting and planting

The seeds of creative

Ideas on the fertile pages,

And at times I feel soporific 

When I look at the moving train, 

Or stare out at the buzzing streetlamp, 

Across the street, through my windowpane.

I close my eyes and let my pillow swallow me, 

All of which turns my dream utterly horrific ~  

Where I’m falling off the tallest building, 

Or floating up towards the fiery ceiling. 

And I wake up straight, explosively, 

Letting the freaky dream to shatter, 

And all that I look around for 

Is a relieving glass of water.