I like nights.

I like nights for the loneliness they bring

Like they're all mine, like I'm all mine.

Thoughts don't sting, in their skin,

I'm at peace with my feelings. it's fine

to let loose, to dive, to sway, to go insane.

I like nights for they're unseen,

barred light, and everything but me is one, absolute blackness, just that and me.

The empty streets, the mild breeze, the intoxicated sleep,

I like nights for they speak nothing of the days, unbothered by decisions and mistakes, nights just unfurl on you, like a honey bath.

I like nights for the way they make me speak,

words filling the silence, words longing to mean.

I like nights for they're the few moments before death,

where all you could, would and should do is already gone, and now it's just you and what's gone.

Nothing ahead to look forward to, nothing pending to be pondered, no questions to prepare for, nothing worth hustling, not even your own life.

You can just let go now, and be gentle and be still

just slowly drifting away from reality, towards the whole world inside your head, and your head's all around you, and you're home.

I like nights for they're something you go back to.

I like nights for I hate days.

And not the 9pm go to bed, early to rise nights, the 1am everybody's dead, light a cigarette nights.

Nights that make you not want to close your eyes, because the nothingness you long for in sleep is around you.