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When I woke up, it was the middle of the night.
My stirred mind was immediately plagued
By thoughts of nagging self doubt.
Like —That boy I’ve known
since middle school,
why doesn’t he say Hi to me anymore
like he used to?
As my computer screen is wont to do
When it’s infected with viruses,
A million reasons popped up into my head,
And they all boiled down to: It’s you,—
you,— you,—
it’s all because of you.
It wasn’t until 3 AM
that I could be soothed back to sleep
by my own handmade blanket of self assurances
and recalled compliments.

How I wish I could immune myself from petty worries
And not run from day to day
On the fossil fuel demons of my past,
Waiting until the middle of the night
To find myself empty.