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Evan Stephens Jan 17
Push back black bath of sleep;
I have these 3 am shakes.
I hear the water skin
moving in the next room,
drops of cotton coil to cold leg,
& salt lamp cracks on,
pink broadcast against the hour.
Dreams retreat on the board;
the moon swims in the frost.
Where are you?
hxzin Dec 2020
i spent sleepless nights alone in my bed,
caccooned in white sheets
for you,
resting my fingertips on myself in an
attempt to mimic what you may do
if you were here.

not out of lust but
longing for you
and your touch,
your presence,
your gaze.

without your body, soft but solid
and your petal-veined skin

title from beabadoobee's song "if you want to", it's clichΓ© but i felt it represented me awake at 3am last night very well aha
After 3 a.m, some couple of beers, maybe way more
After some sick cloud of sad thoughts,
After all the alcohol and other addictions,
After all the candles have been melted,
After I've digged every possible hole,
After I've smoked every cigarette till their smelly tips,
After you don't text me, no more
Seems so easy to be after someone else, some new text,
Some new threatning, some new dating site.
After all, I still love you
Andrea Dec 2020
The fear of loneliness
weighs heavily on my very existence.
The fear of being alone with my thoughts
Sends chills to my muscles and bones.
I don't want to be alone with them,
because I don't know where they'll take me.
They'll take me far away.
Far enough to get lost and never come back
marjo Dec 2020
Is this what they call death?
Still being awake at three in the morning with short, heavy heart beats that you could almost feel your chest sink?
With your mind still completely awake and a burst of thoughts suddenly come through it like wildfire, leaving you overwhelmed with emotions that you can't even tell apart?
Trust me when I say I've tried shutting it off--- my mind and all the madness that it goes through, but somehow, the more I try to suppress it, the more I feel alive. I feel like dying, but at the same time it's what is keeping me alive.
Akshay Oct 2020
You COULD've existed in me instead.
Oh sweet you.
Here I am
once again..
It's 3 a.m
a rhyming game...

Daylight conventions taught
dictates all the 'ought's,
I couldn't pour a daylight thought
against the conventional odds.

An acquaintance, he died,
Sympathy I tried;
Empathy I tried;
but my feelings were dried.

I wonder why,
did I cry?
Not out of sadness
but of emptiness.

3 a.m is too good a time,
where the air is sublime,
to be wasted on sleeping
instead of weeping.

3 often make me wonder
if age is really just a number
on a waiting lift to mortality
or a mere human banality.

Here I am again
pouring my pain
for no gain
playing the 3 a.m rhyming game.
I am jealous of a person who died a peaceful death. Why can't people who want to die be blessed with death?
Sitting out on the front step with you
Under stars in their last breath of this night
Coffee in hand
3 a.m.
We talk.
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