it's late

It’s late.
And I find myself here.
Trying to get things out of my head and on paper. I can't get this ticking to go away.
It’s like a bomb is getting ready to explode in my brain and everything I have ever worked towards will be painted on the walls.
Think about flowers for too long, you find yourself plucking imaginary petals in your brain, wondering "he loves me" or "he loves me not"
creating dreams then crushing them

I was driving home tonight, and I saw lightning within the clouds,
It never broke through.
I didn't feel the rain or hear any thunder,
But the flashing lights made it seem like the world was ending,
Like there was nothing else to live for besides the flashes.
And they didn't stop.
But the world didn't end.

There was one shining star in the sky tonight.
It stood out in the sky
millions of stars
but only one.