Wake

 

Lying wakeful,

Exhaustion’s constant companion,

I have come to believe

I am nocturnal,

Stumbling blind

Through this day lit world.

 

My core yearns

For alleys and underbrush

Slinking shadows,

Sly scurryings,

And starlight.

Eyes that shine

In the flash of headlights.

 

But I force myself

To wake to sunlight,

Denying midnight’s depths.

 

Why am I not a predator?