3am

Snow falling from the sky like confetti. I hit the road. The air is crisp, my breath floats like smoke, then disappears. My footsteps crack in the snow. The moons glow is brighter. The skeletal remains of trees line the streets. With no destination I just wander. Observing the artistry of a creator. Beautiful mornings happen everyday. Yet we sleep. If the night breeds trouble. The day promises change. EVERYDAY. Yet I stay the same. Programmed. I enjoy mornings and watching daytime come alive. It gives me hope. Every yesterday has been a task. A travesty. A moment of realization. Self destruction is my closest rival. So I indulge. Always promising tomorrow. So I wake up before my side of the planet. And reflect. Because Everything changed.