awakened at 2 am again,
and depression starts to seep in.
you toss in your bed,
having those nightmares once more.
it's 3 am again,
and i'm so sad.
my favorite picture lays next to the shattered glass,
and they tell me i'm not a poet.
but it's **** near 4 am again,
and the sun will rise.
you're awoken by the sound of tears hitting the broken glass,
and i tell you to go back to bed.
it's 5 am again,
and we can see glimmers of light through the windows.
so i crack open two eggs,
scramble them and make toast.
now it's already 6 am again,
and as we're munching on breakfast we watch the sunrise.
i say i love you,
and clamber back into bed shakily.