I ask at night.

I see the moon best at night
I ask her

What do you think?

She only sees me at night.
Or maybe she sees me all the time. But she is only revealed when the day is at its darkest.
I ask her

What do you think?

Although she sees me in the day, the night is when it all comes out.
My insomnia of insecurities, my dilemnas of dreams.

She doesn't answer.
Or does she? I know what she sees, I know what she thinks.

She is me, and I am her.

I ask.

But I already know what she won't say.