2am is when the wolves call for me and I die slowly.

2am is when I end up sacrificing myself to you, so I can finally be quiet.

2am is when I won't fall asleep because all I have is this window to keep me company.
2am I look and see a tumbleweed in the streets, wandering aimlessly.

"That's my heart now set it free."

2am a song comes on the radio. It isn't familiar,  but it somehow describes everything I'm feeling, even right down to its melody.

2am I don't know who I am but all I know is I need a friend.

At 2am I will play this song until my head can't take it anymore. It's a mantra that won't stop repeating itself, and I love it.

2am I look into my sheets. I peer down and see your face. I reach to touch it but it fades away. Transparent you is very rude.

At 2am I will sing this tune I do not know. Therefore it will sound drunken, but I do not care because it reminds me of you.

2am where did you go? You used to be right next to me. Now all I have is oxygen filling the space where you would look at me and say, "I love you."

2am how did I end up this way?  I open my hands and see my veins. I hate them. I hate them because you used to run your fingers across them.

2am I grab the weapon of death. I can see my reflection even in the darkness. As my heart throbs of pain, my life is over and I am free, at 2am.

Whisper the words in my ear
2am and we won't sleep, too bad!

Tell me your worse kinda fear
2am and we won't sleep, too bad!

You can cry if you want to
Make me your refuge
2am and we won't sleep, too bad!

I feel your heart beat on my skin
I feel the energy deep within
I know what you're hiding,
Let me in!!

It 2am and we won't sleep, too bad!

                          2am
deep in the sheets of your bed.

the early hours of the morning, when light has yet to show itself, and the streets are quiet.

2am is not for the happy people.

it is not for the lovers.

it is for the shadows that finally feel accepted.

it is for the poets, who are still up because their mind is filled with an unimaginable amount of words about someone they love.

it is for the broken-hearted who have been crying since 9pm.

it is for the people who love but are not loved.

it is for the one who finally feel like they can be whomever they want to be (or need to be) at 2am. and only 2am.

2am are for the lost souls and broken hearts.
2am are for the lovers who became apart.
2am are for the sinners who wanted a new start.
2am is for me to heal the things that left a scar.

2am's are colder than overnight waters;
Frail hours manipulated by flames' want of being put out-
The prey is peace tormented by envy,jealousy,greed-haunted Insomniacs.

2am's-a regretting phase
to a drunk caller not returning to
his habitat,for a syndrome.
A shadow he cannot outrun!

2am's determinance of tenacity
remembering her roots,
Theatre of dreams for
an awaited by responsibilities
African first child.

2am's grip blood,sweat and tears
Of night-shoppers' preference
Of used goods;
In carts,even when wet
for its not about taste!

2am's feel for a diasporan's spouse
Once a patient veagan hastily entombed in a game,
Long demolished by poachers.

There's something about 2am
It's not quite midnight, but it's not too far into the day just yet
There's something about 2am that makes my brain run wild
Something that makes me unable to get you off my mind
There's something about it that keeps me up longer than I want to be because I can't stop thinking of where I went wrong
What I did to spiral out of control
Unable to retract my tears
There's something about 2am that makes every song seem more sad than it is
That makes every song feel relatable
That this really was a love gone wrong
I should've never gone back to you
I knew all along I'd just get hurt again
But there's something about 2am that makes me feel everything
Feel everything at once

Maybe, poets write because they have unstable feelings.
Maybe, poets write at 2am, in order to ease it.
Maybe, poets write to contain their feelings in to it.
Maybe, poets write *hopelessly.
Maybe, poets write at 2am hopelessly hoping, that, someone, on the other side of the earth, someone is awake to read the poem.

*And maybe someone awake, maybe, to care.

I want to walk with you
through empty parking lots at 2am
And talk about all the things that don’t seem real
At 2am
Like we’re in some kind of parallel universe
Where the world falls silent
And our stories echo through the night
We would be unstoppable
At 2am
When everything that could ever come in our way
Is fast asleep
With only you by my side
At 2am
I swear
we could do it all