A bright, pale spider is hanging above

Overseeing my nighttime activity.

Keys click and where there is light, insects creep

I’d rather not think about where the glow dare not reach

Fingers and doorframes are unswollen with the absence of the day’s heat

I am almost comfortable.

Absolute darkness…

Is nowhere to be found, having seemingly retreated 

And now I’m left to another end, anticipating another beginning

Eyes have missed the inside of eyelids all day

And would rather be reunited than scan the blackness existing with-out

My mind would consider many things if it could function

There is no point to this night

But it begs to be recorded