Therapy Bits

When daylight folds its wings and slips away,

I rise, a creature knitted from the dusk.

The quiet hum of darkness guides my sway,

Its velvet air both intimate and hushed.

The world grows softer when the clocks grow late,

Streetlamps bloom like lanterns in a dream.

I walk beside the shadows they create,

My thoughts unspooling in their gentle gleam.

While others drift to sleep, I start to wake—

A heartbeat synced with moon instead of sun.

The silence gives me space no dawn can make,

A solitude where wandering minds can run.

I sip the hours slowly, one by one,

Letting their coolness settle in my veins.

The night, to me, is sanctuary won,

A softer world untouched by daily strains.

And though the morning calls with golden light,

I linger at the edge of fading stars,

A night owl tracing dreams across the night,

Forever loyal to its silver scars.