12:23 AM.
"Why don't girrafes make sound?"
We lay side by side.
Watching the glowing stars on her ceiling.
"But they do make sounds."
I answered.
"Go to sleep now."
"They do?"
Her eyes brightened.
In the moonlight.
"Only when they're
Upset or scared."
I taught her.
"No wonder they
Never talked back to me."
She muttered.
And I couldn't believe.
She was being serious.
She was clearly delusional.
"I answered your question,
Let's sleep now."
I insisted.
She refused.
"You go sleep,
And I'll just watch you."
"That's not how it works."
To which she responded by.
Puffing up her cheeks.
"It is now.
Because I have superpowers.
So you sleep, mkay."
Bickering.
Bickering.
Bickering.
She drove my irritibleness.
Off the charts.
And I wondered what kept me.
From walking out that door right then.
But eventually I always.
Remembered.
Why.
