3 AM Architecture

Buildings look different when no one expects them to be watched.

At 3 AM, everything confesses.

The scaffolding admits it's holding something up.

The windows admit they're mostly empty.

The street admits it's tired of going somewhere.

I've been designing in my head for hours —

structures that don't need to stand up,

rooms for feelings that don't have names yet.

A hallway that gets longer the more familiar it becomes.

A window that only shows you what was.

A ceiling that lowers by one inch per year of knowing someone.

At 3 AM, I am my own architect.

The blueprints are feelings.

The materials are whatever night is made of.

Tomorrow I will try to build something real.

For now, I'm letting the dark do the drafting.