Insomnia's best

It would be ideal to share now about how my first year of college has changed me in all sorts of inspiring and challenging ways (blah, blah, blah) but I would rather talk about other things right now...besides, this blog isn't ready for it yet.
Anyways, I am thinking about how as I grow older, I just stay up later and later especially during my first year of college. It was something I grew adjusted to, and its weird thinking that in high school 11 pm was late. But it's usually pretty normal for young adults to stay up late as they grow older, right? Just not to the age of 40 or so. Unless you're my 80 something year old grandma who stays up around 3 in the morning doing who knows what. I get insomnia every now and then, because well...I think too much??? My mind gets clouded with the tiniest details and thoughts leading to even crazier and weird thoughts. I don't think about what I did during the day, but more rather the things I should have said, the surroundings that I didn't pay enough attention to that day(and oh I realize so much), the people I haven't thought about in awhile, the future, and sparks of new ideas. I find myself the most creative during these late nights, with my brain not exactly active, but my mind on high energy. And if you think the brain and the mind are the same...boy, are you wrong. I wrote this a couple of weeks ago during one of my insomniac nights.

I sunk in my new bed filling my mind with water
Opening my hands but closing my eyes
Swallowing an unfamiliar taste of salt
The records playing in the background,
telling us how to feel
Rather, you see, I pick up my tea
Closing my hands, opening my eyes
Feeling nothing in a familiarity
I tear my map slowly and carefully
Watching the crowd fight to collect the pieces
and the noises try to drown me
Rather, you see, I pick up my tea

The problem is I never know what to call writing like this...I mean, is it a lame attempt of poetry? Or are they lyrics? Maybe neither? I wasn't sure if it made any sense after I finished writing this around 2 am, especially finding myself correcting some lines in my sleep. But I assure you, it is open to interpretation. I knew I hadn't written any poetry/lyrics for my own enjoyment, so I picked off where I left off a year ago, and started writing again. And man, did it feel good. Good like hydrating yourself with cold water on a hot, dry day.