4 am is not for the happy
It is not for the fulfilled
It is not for couples sleeping soundly in each others arms
4am is for the lonely, awake in emptiness and the feeling of never being good enough
It is for the desire to be perfect
And to love and be loved in return
4am is for the poets spilling out their blood and thoughts on paper
Giving life to the words they did not have the courage to speak
4am is for the brokenhearted who spill tears that come to no end, a waste
And are wasted on missing someone who doesn't miss them
4am is for those with a smile on their faces but sadness in their eyes and hearts when they are cut their demons bleed out
4am is not for the happy or fulfilled or the couples sleeping soundly in each others arms
4am is for people like me.

4:20 am
Can't sleep.
I remember how we discussed getting high on that bumpy car ride home with the windows rolled down and the AC cranked up to the max.
4:30 am
Can't sleep.
"Mom, I've been up all night."
Too embarrassed to admit that I was talking to Beloved, I throw my head back and wash away a neon pink pill with a gulp of water.
4:35 am
Can't sleep.
My tense body is screaming for you to be here to relieve the aching of my muscles that are far too overworked and far too exhausted.
Even despite the fact that I spend my days wasting away in a relationship with a bed that doesn't even know my favourite colour.
4:40 am
Can't sleep.
Restless because I miss him.
Restless because I have him.
Realizing that my inability to sleep spawns from the lack of motivation to exist the way I'm supposed to.

There was a soft green glow
that read "4:00am".

It was a burning reminder.
He had no place to go.

That blinking colon
mirroring two zeros;

mirroring his pupils
blinking away 'til his life's end

Each second reflected his inability
to face reality with a semblance of tranquility

He was shaking.
Fearful of the sun rising.

The sunlight brought truth.
He didn't know who he was or what he was going to do.