If 3am could talk it would probably tell me all your secrets.
it would tell me the position you sleep in to feel safe
and the ice cold comment your best friend made.

if 4am could talk it would probably only whisper rumours.
It would assume you can't sleep because he hurt you last year
And it would conclude the fluttering of your eyelids had something to do with what you failed to tell 3am.

If 5am could talk it would be nervous and unsteady.
It would look to your still body and wonder if you were at peace, and if it should wake you.
It might ask 6am to follow up.

If 6am could talk, it would try to be cheery. For the sake of 5am.
It might say you slept just fine, and tomorrow will be the same.
6am might lie and have you shaken and stirred for 7am to handle.

If 7am could talk, it would not know what to say.
It would tell me you were happy being unhappy
7am would giggle mindlessly and hope I went away.

By 8am, no one will be talking but you. And you will tell me a mix of what I already heard through the whispers of the night before.

By 9am the silence of the noise will begin all over again, and you'll wonder why nothing has changed. Why 3am can't be trusted, and 8am hasn't saved you from the incessant humming.

I want to listen to you at 3am, not the silence that tells me what wasn't mine to hear.

I want the truth at 4am, and to hold you when 5am can't.

I want to push away the last of the darkness at 6am, and I want to give 7am something to talk about.

I want to be your saving grace at 8am. I want to be the change you feel at 9am, when you hear the music of the world instead of the noise.