I've become a night owl. I never wanted to be a night person.

I loved the mornings. I loved the sunlight, creeping in through my windows.

I hate the mornings. I hate the way the sun breaks through to reveal the corners I haven't dusted or the dirt I haven't mopped up. I hate how it reveals everything.

The nights, drenched in darkness, never insinuates anything. It is what it is. It cloaks my walls with a grey shadow. It hides those imperfections. It envelopes and disguises space.

It hides me.

I traded in the office for a coffee shop, for a park, for a couch, for a floor.  I want this. I want my fingers to be placed on this keypad always. I want the words to string out and group together. I want this.

I want a penny for every letter, and a dollar for every word, a diamond for a litany of stories that you haven't already heard.

I can't have this.

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