3AM

What if 3am just stopped. Everything stopped. All the ticking time. All the movement. 3am. It’s weird. If you stopped time at 3am and I was the only one awake. That’s what it feels like. That’s what this isolation feels like. I’m talking. I’m conversing. I’m telling to much information. I’m not lying. I love and hate 3am. I wrote poem. No I didn’t. I’m lying. I’m writing a poem at this very moment.

If we both woke up at 3am.

We could enjoy each other.

We could be together.

We could walk and pass no one.

We could talk with no concern for who hears.

I wish you were here to walk with me at 3am.

The version of you you were when we met.

Not the version of you you are now.

You took my heart.

You devalued my soul.

You believed your own lies about me.

Because you built the wall.

Before we even met.

It was started for you.

But you continued building.

Now, I’m broke.

Now, I’m up at 3am.

And I’ll never see you the same.

We could have walked further together.

To the end of time.

But time didn’t stop for us.

And 3am will come and go.

Thank you for walking with me a little while.

Now go and never mistreat anyone as you did me.

I’m not your victim.

But I’m not unharmed.

Be peace.