The best poetry is written at 1:45
When your hearts in a twist and your soul has ****** your mind.
When your eyes are begging for the darkness within
But your twisted mind refuses to give in.

When your fingers ache but the ink flows silent
You speak of things like escaping this reality, so violent.
How you wish to slip away, like a thief into your colourful dreams.
A place where your dream isn't woken up with blood curling screams

Don't stop writing darling for its your only escape.