sometimes in the night,
i look at my mind,
thinking, rummaging,
to discover why
an oddity like me
should exist at all.
the answer I obtain,
inadequate to fill the void
that ever so slowly
encroaches on my thoughts, 
is a crescent moon
that looks naught like beauty,
till I pull my brush
and paint a red layer
to hide the brightness
that cheats me into believing 
that it’s all worth it.
always, in the night,
my eyes don’t shut,
never missing the lure 
that comes with the darkness
wanting to give me the best
of my twisted dreams. 

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