It's 2am

Shadows dance across the walls
and the floor boards creak under
the weight of the silence.

It's 2am

Sleep eludes me
while my thoughts reel through my mind
like film through a camera.

It's 2am

And the thoughts of you
begin.

They say insomnia is a writer's best friend
When 2 am thoughts become conversations with the moon, as she reveals her secrets from within
And you cry or insanely laugh while hoping not to break your pen
It's at night, peak hours of the morning, when those twisted emotions decide that they've had enough and break free from that daytime zen
The happy face slides off and the pain comes crashing in
3 am thoughts race as you hope your brain will shut off or the sun wins
Either way, when the next night hits, you'll be laying in bed with your notebook and pen watching the clock all over again.

There's a difference in knowing who you are,
And why you are.
Because the past can't be changed.