Dreams come quickly

With their pounds

Of worry

Adventure

And fear.

Chased by anthropomorphized

Daylight somethings.

What gives them power

At night?

What makes them matter

Other than your mind?

Neither created

Nor destroyed

But somehow changed

Shifted like water to snow

And back again.

If strength is a muscle

They’re stealing yours,

And you wake up

Cold sweating

With sore arms and

Hearts.

I’ve been awake too long

To believe in the day and the night

And the way that we worship them

Like a God, we say that that day is good.

Nothing good happens after 2 am.

Doesn’t the sunrise come just a few hours later?

Your daily reawakening to the world of color.

And your first cup of coffee?

I know smiles that only come out at night.

Aren’t we blinded by the light of the day?