at home (looking out from the third story window)

darkness sets in like the endless depths of the ocean
once you go too far it isn't a question of going back
It is.

unawareness seeps far beneath where any physicality can be discerned
from which the reflections become lonely as old souls,
lost on their way with only a penpoint of light.

someone else must be there
behind that glass
watching.

me?

could they be thinking
the thoughts of of how the night eat our humanity?
or how it creeps into all crevices kept lighted only with human ingenuity?

eyes like beetles squinting at me as if trying to peer into my insides to reach my soul and tell me of the plaintiveness that exists beneath the splendours of the world.