It began in the hallway
Lips gingerly moving to the tastes of bottles.

It started light.
You had those same Atlantic eyes that would rage hurricanes in my memories


I could do this for centuries.

All is paper thin
These temporary feelings
Nothing built to last

3 am
I lay awake
I ponder
Of the world and of the life I live
3 am is when
The most shadowed of thoughts arise
Crumbling my insides
Tearing me apart
3 am is for
The lonely
The ones who long for someone to care
Feel the ever apparent loneliness
The distance
Between you and the world
But we yearn for what we cannot have
3 am
Is not for the lovers sleeping peacefully beside
It is not for little boys and girls deep in their dreams
3 am is for the troubled
3 am is for me

You could of had anyone yet you choose to have no one and that my dear, is the most poetic thing. You see the simplicity and the comfort of solidarity, the gracefulness and confidence. you choose to see the beauty of the world instead of the world seeing the beauty of you. You chose adventure over heart break, and friends over lovers. And that is poetic.