its five in the morning somewhere

could of been the traffic,
or how the overcast sky
reflected the cold concrete
that made me wanna stop.
coulda been the redlights
weighing on my mind like
lead
that made me wanna open up and write
just what ive been keeping
locked behind my trap door head:
you're in the air i breathe,
in the city, or by the sea.
youre that constant pulse
of electricity
surging through my bone-framed-flesh-beliefs.
you're the 5 am's
that i dont ever wanna see;
unless its where i know for sure
you'll be that sweetest little voice
complaining heavy next to me:
"baby i cant see, my eyes arnt functioning"