Sketch

I sit
Staring.
At my empty sheet of paper.
My hand has been tracing
The lines in my head
for the past...
...check over my shoulder...
...for the steady red of the clock...
4:44
A.M.
for the past 4 hours.
And 44 minutes.
My hand reaches to touch the button
that will begin another round
of tortured chick songs
that can all be related to.
A guitar starts, her voice follows
and blends in with
the ocean of cars behind my house.
As wave upon wave of busy people
start their day.
When mine hasn't even ended.
I see a ripple outside my line of vision
caused by a night spent acquiring revelations.
I focus on the breaks in my view
to watch the room pulse with acid.
Another wave crashes behind my house.
And i go back to my pad
waiting, hesitantly, for my next sketch to melt onto it.
I'm sorry.
What else to draw before i become redundant,
and start old sketches again?