late night lament

As I write this, it's late. It's so late that when I go outside for a five minute sanity break, all of the dead next door are sleeping except for one lone night owl, and even he turns to me with his dull, drooping eyes. "What the fuck are you still doing up?"

I open my mouth waiting for words to come out. Something justified and sound and defensive on my recently acquired habit of "Just say no to sleep."

But an awkward silence hangs in the thick night air, because to be perfectly honest, I don't know.

Miles to go before I sleep baby.

Miles to go before I sleep.