2:36 AM

2 am is for the poets who 

can't sleep because their

minds are alive with words 

for someone who's not there.

For the alcoholics drinking

themselves into euphoria to 

forget someone who left.

2 am is not for the lovers

asleep in each other's arms.

It is for the lonely, the ones

who are in love with the 

loved but are not loved in

return.

2 am sitting alone

at the coffee table,

in the dark,

writing, and

aching 

for you,

while you are 

asleep

in your own bed,

far from here,

dreaming of something else.

We often say stupid things that we regret. Nothing good ever happens at 2am. Sometimes you just have to give up on people. Chasing after them is a heartbreak, especially when they don't try meet you half way.

you do not like some things about yourself

how when you're nervous 

you talk quickly and sometimes

the things you say don't make sense

but your 2 am ramblings are 

my lullaby.

i have fallen in love with 

the way your voice sounds in the morning

i have taken delight in your messy hair

and the way you sometimes use big words

that you don't remember learning 

your imperfections

are so beautiful

because each one has a story

and being inside your cluttered

colourful mind

will always be my favourite place

to be close with your doubts

and fearful past

and whisper lovely things to them.

(s.l.)