The whole house is sleeping
But my mind did not get the news
There is a light on in the kitchen
And a thought I cannot lose
I said I would go to bed early
I have said that one before
But a thought became a sentence
Now there are pages on the floor
Maybe I should leave it
Maybe morning would be wise
But the truth gets so much louder
When the rest of the world goes quiet
So I write songs at midnight
When I should be fast asleep
Turning all the things I carry
Into something I can keep
Every word becomes a window
Every page lets in some light
Maybe this is how I find me
Writing songs at midnight
There are versions of myself here
I forgot along the way
The girl who used to dream out loud
Before she learned what not to say
So I sit with her in silence
Let her tell me where she has been
She has waited all these years
For me to listen once again
Maybe healing is not pretty
Maybe it does not come on time
Maybe sometimes it is pen and paper
And a truth you cannot hide
So I write songs at midnight
When I should be fast asleep
Turning all the things I carry
Into something I can keep
Every word becomes a window
Every page lets in some light
Maybe this is how I find me
Writing songs at midnight
I have spent my life believing
I should have it figured out
Like growing up meant knowing
What this life is all about
But I am learning there is freedom
In admitting I do not know
You can love the life you are living
And still have somewhere left to go
If my songs could be my therapist
They would probably roll their eyes
Say, “You have unpacked enough for now
Please, for once, just close your eyes”
But then they would sit beside me
While I write one final line
Because some things only find you
In the quiet after midnight
So I write songs at midnight
For the girl I used to be
For the woman I am becoming
And the space in between
For the dreams I thought I lost
For the ones still taking flight
I think I hear myself more clearly
When I write songs at midnight
I will write songs at midnight
Till there is nothing left to hide
Turn the hurt into a story
Turn the fear into a light
I do not need all the answers
I just need to know I tried
To make something beautiful
From all these thoughts inside
And maybe when the morning comes
I will see myself alright
But tonight
I am still here
Writing songs at midnight
The whole house is sleeping
Morning is not far away
I put down the pen
Turn off the light
Then think of one more thing to say.
