Late Night Song

I like to stand at the edge of the forest, in a place between here and there, where wild birds neither sing nor fly, where wild bears don’t see you, but you know they are hungry.
I’ve given more books than borrowed, I breathed air both from the north and the south, I had sisters, lovers, animals of all sorts, friends of all sorts too, but never have I ever had a brother.
Late at night I say to myself “I am tired”, but then I lie in my bed without sleep thinking “Fuck, I guess I’m not that tired.” Only the clock in the room is ticking like a maniac, “you-are-just-af-raid-of-dy-ing.”
