It’s those nights when you really think
When minutes pass like raindrops pattering on the gutter
And every tick of the clock reminds you
That your alarm ever approaches in the morning
Though
It seems so far away right now

Your heart in your throat (or maybe it’s your stomach (you prefered chemistry to biology))
Watching as a dilapidated stink bug moves ever so slowly
Higher and higher up the wall
(You read an article about them once (they’re resilient little creatures))

But oh so slow
Tick tick
Tick
step
Tick tick tick
step

Don’t you wish you could move that slow
And yet still avoid the toilet paper scrap
Hastily ripped so as not to lose you, and carefully caught so as not to squash, and flushed down the drain
But you evade them clever

So high on the wall
To be that tall
What would you see?

Would you notice the glow of a screen, illuminating a face
A face that has seen many of you
Seen much so much, but nothing of the world

Would you see into the furrowed brow
And see that the one who is thinking of you
is thinking, lucky
Lucky to go so slow
Almost stagnant, and then, when you least expect it
another
step

No one needs you to hurry up
The world isn’t waiting for you
(you’re just a bug)

Do you envy me?

But you pop back from your trance
Stink bugs are disgusting
You hate stink bugs
why won’t sleep come