It's 3:30 in the morning in the middle of winter
but it's still too darn hot in this room.
Long since having kicked away
his blankets in an unfruitful attempt
to cool off and fall into sleep's sweet embrace,
the boy stares at the cieling.
When you're a 10-year-old up in the middle of the night,
your mind plays too darn many tricks on you.
He takes deep, measured breaths
as he attempts to convince himself that
'No, eyes are not watching you on the roof. Calm down.'
The boy decides he hates the ceiling.
He thinks he should've listened to his mother
when she told him not to have that extra ice cream before bed.
He's beginning to get nervous,
so he presses the heels of his hands
against his closed eyes. Monsters aren't real.
The boy opens his eyes again.
He stares silently into the darkness,
listening to the soft breathing of his baby
brother on the bunk below. He relaxes a bit.
The boy gives a huge yawn.
He decides that maybe this isn't so bad -
submerged in a warm blanket of nighttime,
listening to the sleeping world around him.
The boy closes his eyes one more time.
It's 4:00 in the morning in the middle of winter
and a little boy is sleeping peacefully.
---------
....I don't really know where this came from.
