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2 AM calling
to sing the green dawn's chorus
for my ears only.

Copyright © 2022 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved
I always find myself randomly waking up at 2 AM, it's become a constant occurrence at this point and I don't understand why it happens. I don't always enjoy it, especially when I'm already tired, but sometimes it's pretty peaceful, like this time was carved especially for me to write or read or do whatever makes me happy. Or maybe I'm just romanticising my insomnia ****.

*I might also change the title because I'm not a huge fan but I couldn't think of anything else.*

(P.S. you can follow me on instagram, if you'd like to @sykmusings ♡)
Joseph Gassmann May 2021
2am talking to you...
The hum of a neon sign, Emitting light so tranquil
Purple Luminescence on your face. The sparkle in your eye, it brings life to all...
The smile in your words     In comparison everything so small.    

In conversation vocalising the deep within

What can I say, 2am there is no filter Here.

The euphoria so intense
all Existence has so much Distance,
the world fades away...

Quizzed with the words you speak
Everything begins to dull
Everything so quiet and clear

The realisation of how much I hold you dear
I'd hate to think what I'd do  
Without you here
She Writes Apr 2021
Nothing is louder
Than silent tears
And 2 a.m. overthinking
The clock’s short arm
is two lines over midnight,
And the internet is a river
of nocturnal creatures,
My fishing rod is as plastic as
my phony profile picture’s nose,
A scripted act of deep affection
a tasty trapping virtual bait,
Singing mermaid ringing you in
There’s nowhere else to swim.

Successful the catfish-lady catching a fish-man.
I wonder if there any catfishes on HP using poetry to draw us in?
dylan Dec 2020
sitting here
it's 2AM
I'm staring at a wall
the only thoughts I have
are of the memories
KNS Sep 2020
I am not tethered
Not yet
Not ever
I exist exclusively outside your gaze
I belong to myself now
You will not keep me here,
In fear and in folly
And I, I will not stay
Though I am weary of what awaits me
Let me rise, now
The strength of my atonement and courage
Will protect me
As I wonder into a page without your expectations of failure.
I choose to be free.
I have chosen sobriety for nearly six weeks. This is an ode to myself and everything I am becoming.
Isabella Aug 2020
My gaze tracing the lines on the ceiling
2am and I hope my heart’s healing
My body’s numb to any real feeling
As I hear my mind’s worries revealing

I hate that hardly anyone likes me
And the few who do still might leave
I hate that I’m laying here crying
Which will lead to puffy eyes in the morning

I wish I could just love myself first
Or at least go back to when I felt sure
I wish I could be my own shelter
Away from a world where I get hurt

My fingers tracing the tears staining my cheeks
My sobs dulling the ache inside me
2am and my skull is still spiraling
As the black abyss of the night tries to hide me
now i’ll try to sleep
A Aug 2020
Slowly suffocating in ink
Thinking this will somehow make
living life any easier

Thinking and thinking
And eating and eating
Cake at 2 o’clock in the morning
Trying to forget

Cloud over my head
Pouring out blood,
sweat and tears
from the days of
Helping you survive

Head held up high
in desperation
Praying and praying
that I don’t drown

Slowly suffocating
And restricting any other love
for my mind, body and soul
Putting you first was the
Utmost worse decision I have
ever made in my life.

Because years later
I’m still drowning in my own sorrows
from back in those days
When I loved you.
Soxna la Donna Jul 2020
I dreamed I lost my teeth last night.

Oh dear, I fear the loss.

Feeling of a void, I wish I could hold you tight.

I recorded 5 voice messages, please don't avoid me.

I told you I won't listen to what they say.

Critics always bite you even when you enjoy your day.

Our ego ruins everything, I overthink.

It is 2:03 am in the morning and I am struggling with this bad feeling.

That Girl Jun 2020
It’s that time again.
It’s 2am again.
It’s time to look to the right side of my bed and feel sad.
It’s time to wonder why it’s still empty.
It’s time for me to make a list of why it is empty.
It’s time for me to be ******* myself.
It’s time for me to wonder where I went wrong.
It’s time for me to make a list of all my mistakes.
It’s time to feel sorry for myself.
It’s time for me to break my own heart.
It’s time for me to play over what men have said to me in the past.
It’s time for my old tinder messages to haunt me.
“Unless I can eat that *** and ***** from the back before marriage Christian girls aren’t as fun.”
“Would you be interested in a nice thick 8 inch ****?”
“I’m looking for a more physically intimate relationship.”
It’s time for me to remind myself the reason why my bed is empty.
Men want the one thing that I can’t give them,
And without my body I am nothing to them.
All I am is what’s between my legs and what’s under my shirt.
And with my legs crossed and my top on,
what could I possibly offer them?
It’s time for me remember that while my choice maybe the right choice,
It’s also the lonely choice.
It’s time for me to remember that even though it feels like it’s my fault,
It’s not.
It’s time for me to daydream until I fall asleep.
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