two in the morning

two in the morning

is bowls of ice cream

that you should feel ashamed of

but you're not.

it's instant-messaging,

your form sillhouted by computer-light

in your mirror

that you try to cover up with markered words.

two in the morning

is watching movies online (illegally why not)

still wearing all your clothes

and biting your nails

wondering how long it'll take to crash this time.

two in the morning

is playing games with strangers

saying all kinds of random things

to make them disconnect on you

and yelling out your secrets

because nobody in person would listen

and it pains you when they disconnect faster

than they were before.

two in the morning

is being cross-legged on a made bed

with dirty hair

listening to music with no words

so you won't be tempted to sing along.

it's checking the same pages

you've been checking all day

and nothing's changing

but you keep looking

and nothing's changing

and nothing will ever change

and it's the same thing

forever

and yet you can't sleep.

 

Reviews

[Lyzzy Redd]

I like the build in this one, and I think it's very relatable. Not to sound corny or weird, but it's kind of like you write for the majority of humanity's soul. Maybe that sounded weird. But your poems are just so REAL.