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el Apr 2020
it's at 3am
i cry
i cry for help
i cry for love
i cry for lost hope
i cry for crushed dreams
at 3am
i cry in pain
i cry with jealousy
i cry silently
cry to be seen
at 3am i cry
i cry with my memories
i cry with my pen
i cry as the world around me
sleeps.
at 3am
i weep to the moon
i weep for the lost souls
the people i misplaced
i weep with the man on the moon
and when the clouds obscure
i weep on my own
3am, sleepless nights
with aches as deep as my bones
tears behind my face and
sobs behind my throat
at 3am
i run out of words to use
i miss my muse
i run out of things to say, that
describe my brain, i-
all i can say, is...
at 3am, i cry
(C) Elissar Mustapha, 08.01.2019
Łëïçkî Mar 2020
It was after 3 am that my head started to pound.
I found myself thinking about the things that are lost and found.
How I finally found myself, and how I found you were lost.
Misunderstood pain and emotion.
Unreciprocated love and devotion.
Oh how it spirals in those brown eyes,
wearing your ever thinning vail of lies as a disguise.
The liquor eating at your mind like flies.
Yeah now your just like me, the same as me.
Always moving, always running, always forgetting.
Always leaving the things that matter,
the things you are now regretting.
The higher you go, the thinner the air.
If you don't stop climbing your eyes will only hold your lifeless stare.
Just like me, the same as me.
AN UNHAPPY ENDING; cried for 3 hours now my head is pounding
Meera Feb 2020
I lie on my bed
I get some thoughts in my head
I try to drive them away
But they go on to stay
They keep haunting me
The words keep daunting me
I take out a paper and a pen
write the thought down, then
I read it, doesn't sound that bad
feeling content and glad
I go back to my bed
And fall asleep with an empty head
After dawn, when I feel unruffled and sane
I take out the paper and read it again
It sounds terrible, I want to cry
Nonetheless I give it another try
Reading it again, It sounds even worse
Ashamed of my 3 am self and her words
Registering the lack of passion they display
Disgusted, I post them anyway
Thank you for reading this 💕
penelope Jan 2020
i feel dormant, static.

sundays are reserved for anticipation and potential energy. they’re days of suspense and text messages sent with no reply.

a flower that hasn’t bloomed, a fetus in utero, or a criminal on death row, awaiting her execution. sunday is a a spectrum. possibly infertile.

a day of hope, wanting, calling, but still loathing, apprehension.

i can only speak for myself, and my imagined version of you.
noor Dec 2019
i sent you a text at 3pm asking how youve been
you read it at 3:39 pm
you replied at 3am saying you were missing me
Marina Dec 2019
Its 3am
And you're still sleeping
I sit across with my eyes, all weeping
You lied about all the things you said to me.
Its January 2017
And I tend to fall on all my faults,
That you were never the right one for me.

It's almost the end of 2019
And I'm no longer in your sad story
I'm living, breathing, I finally found the one for me
I know I should never fall back with you,
Indecisive lies; your issue.
dorian green Dec 2019
It’s not an art museum,
it’s a Waffle House,
and you’re looking sleepy
as you sip your tea.
It’s three a.m. and
I know we still have a few more miles until my house,
but I’m home and you know it.
I’m ripping up a napkin with my
hands as we talk about the concert.
I know I enjoyed it more than you,
and I know I cried on the way home
because I thought you didn’t love me,
but you still came to the concert
even though you didn’t really like the artist,
and now we’re at a Waffle House at three a.m.,
and the garish yellow decor reflects on your skin,
and we’re sweaty and tired,
and I love you in the rare, inexpressible way
that feels most potent
after concerts at Waffle Houses at three a.m.
it was an amanda palmer concert, if you were curious
Robby Nov 2019
There’s something magical about 3AM
It calls me awake almost nightly

Sometimes I’ll sit outside then
Just to listen to the wind dance

It’s peaceful there in the calm
I can feel that peace in my soul

I don’t discount that comfort
Because it’s few and far between
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