It is late

And I listen to the silence of the house around me

But is it truly silent?

I can hear music, sometimes, from the room below

The humming of the fans

The buzz of my computer

And noises that mean someone is temporarily out of bed

And through it all

I'm in a sleepy haze

But still uncertain whether I really wish to go to sleep

So I have to wonder

Just what makes me me?

It is late and my thoughts have begun to ramble

A sign I need to sleep

But I still don't want to

And I wonder what that means for my future and me

And I wonder why repeating lines sounds good

And why I'm typing here

And why I cannot leave

Why I cannot sleep