Secrets whispered,
tired eyes glance
across the darkened room,
searching for some
source of light.
A bleeding pen,
letting the words
spill from inside.
From the deepest
parts of yourself.
Never to know where
they come from,
only that they exist.
Staying up into
the earliest hours of the day
only result in negative
reflection on your life,
all the loneliness you feel,
the glares from strangers
you tried to shove back
but they just come back
and decide to harass you.
5 AM is the time
when you know your eyes
should be fluttering,
and you should be having dreams
you won’t remember,
but you’re not.
