After Midnight

Streetlights smear on the windshield,

clock says late but my head won’t chill.

No destination, just need some miles,

let the night breathe for a little while.

Two in the morning, ceiling fan spinning,

same four walls got my thoughts all winning.

Phone face down, I ain’t calling nobody,

hoodie on, keys in, slide out the lobby.

Cold air hit, now the brain feel cleaner,

dash lights glow and the bass hit meaner.

No big mission, no place I gotta be,

just a full tank talking like “come ride with me.”

I take the long way past all the closed signs,

empty intersections, yellow-light slow times.

Mind been loud, so I move with the rhythm,

every mile put a little more space in the system.

I ain’t running away, I’m just breaking the loop,

sometimes motion is the only thing telling the truth.

Windows cracked, let the night come through,

whole city asleep, I got nothing to prove.

After midnight, I come alive,

no sleep in me, so I take that drive.

Bass down low, streetlights slide,

nowhere to go and that’s alright.

After midnight, head gets clear,

all that noise gets quiet out here.

If I can’t sleep, I don’t fight that vibe,

I just find me a road and ride.

Mind race, lane change, rain on the glass,

same pain, new frame, let the whole thing pass.

Quick breath, left turn, light on green,

city look different when nobody’s seen.

Gas station coffee, one hand on the wheel,

not trying to numb it, just trying to feel

something besides that stuck-in-place pressure,

night got a way of putting thoughts back together.

I might hit the coast, I might circle downtown,

might park by the water just to hear that sound.

No texts, no stress, no explaining my mood,

just me and the dark getting back in tune.

Then the flow switch—double-time, tight:

Head full of static, I’m cutting through traffic,

not being dramatic, just changing the pattern,

if sleep ain’t happening, movement is medicine,

mile after mile and I’m back in my element.

No destination written, no schedule attached,

just chasing that moment when my breathing comes back.

Maybe I don’t need answers tonight.

Maybe I just need distance and lights.

Maybe peace ain’t laying in bed,

maybe it’s four tires clearing my head.

After midnight, I come alive,

no sleep in me, so I take that drive.

Bass down low, streetlights slide,

nowhere to go and that’s alright.

After midnight, head gets clear,

all that noise gets quiet out here.

If I can’t sleep, I don’t fight that vibe,

I just find me a road and ride.

Sun ain’t up, but I’m doing fine.

Sometimes peace shows up after midnight. CCB