today i learnt that 3am is witching hour i think back to the 3ams we spent together our thoughts growing louder as the world grew silent
witches would have had nothing on me with you, my fears remained shrunken a rock, a stone, a gem my rock, my stone, my gem
remember how i picked at your mind remember how you learnt my idiosyncrasies remembering intimacies and depth remembering limits and being apart
‘patience is a virtue’ i never understood that till i saw it reflected in you but then again, patience. . . the very thing that made me tear us apart
we used to fit ourselves into each other’s schedules, like puzzle pieces now remote acquaintances at the very least strangers and driftwood torn apart, all on my part
consider this a shout to an endless void a scream into an abyss a plea to your heart all that you will never witness
but if i ever cross your mind even for a millisecond do accept my last selfish request promise they’ll be good thoughts or maybe, at the very most, promise you’ll call
after all 3am was always ours two of us fending against the dark an incessant, hopeful memory (yet one of my favourites) 3am will always be ours
this one's for you; an unheard apology amidst regrets. your friendship meant more to me than you know.
i just wish i could quote a thousand apologies in different languages, albeit out of my own selfish desires, just to speak to you again. if i can’t, this will be the closest way i know how.