Awake

I remember being wide awake
and thinking.
thinking about everything.
The stars, the sky,
things that didn't make sense to me.
human existence, how one person could withhold so much beauty.
Why some people can't just tell you how they really feel, or how
math is so difficult, how there could be another person in the world
who looks oddly familiar to you. Like a twin, or a close cousin.
Why being stressed makes you lose your hair, or deprive you of your
nature hair color, causing the strands to turn light grey.
How looking into the eyes of a cat, gives you an odd sense that
the eyes you're peering into once belonged to someone else, now
that soul is forced to live its existence in another body.
But maybe that's how we all live, waiting to be done with this body
so that maybe we can relive our faults in another.
I guess you could call in sleep deprivation.
I call it an imagination.
I hold mine very close, and hope it never slips away.