Midnight from my phone- a poem

It is nearly midnight
I can't sleep
Write a thing,
I thought..
But what?

Maybe a dream...

That one where
I kissed a stranger

u n d e r

the strawberry moon

Or maybe mailboxes
or dead stars

I could write to myself.

I might even listen
On a night that feels empty

As I have tendencies
To find comfort
In my own company

When no one else
Can understand me

Nor wants to
when I'm

Out
Of
My
Mind

(c) 2019 paintingangels
also, the moon is mine