Ante Meridiem

These hours were made for people like you.

( 12 a.m. )

"Good night." "I'll see you tomorrow." "Sweet dreams." All that was needed to be said has been said, or perhaps not. When the clock strikes twelve, it's when the conversations end; no more questions about how your day went. But for the ones who still go on, whose words endure, they have opened a void from which there can be no return from. This is when untold words begin to spill, words of which only the night will remember. For when the morning comes, you'll claim that no secrets were ever exchanged.

( 1 a.m. )

This won't be the last hour of the day that you'll be staying up late, wide awake. That second cup of coffee won't be your last either. So maybe you'll be able to hold on until you've read every line of that textbook. Or maybe it won't be long till your tears start to spill. But whatever you do, know that you're never alone. For these hours you spend studying in the darkness, under the low lamplight, can only lead you to that bright future you've always been reaching out to with your fingers since you were a child.

( 2 a.m. )

Whether the words spill from a lucid mind or a clouded one, it doesn't matter to a poet. They'll awake once an idea intrudes their mind, reaching for the nearest pen to scribble down the words on their skin. This hour was made for the writers with their quixotic minds that refuse to rest. So they stay up late writing until their pens run out of ink and there's no space to write on. Be it about the tragedy or miracle of love, tales of heroes and how Icarus fell, the joy and pain and everything in between, the night provides all the fuel a poet needs.

( 3 a.m. )

They say the body is at its weakest at 3 a.m. Maybe so are our minds. And when people start to scream or sit up from their bed on the verge of tears, you'll know it's from a nightmare. Faces fading around them, monsters chasing them in circles, the world ending with a whimper. Maybe they'll get over it fast, settling back to sleep in less than a minute. Maybe they'll choose to stay up instead, unable to trust the demons in their head. Awake, they're in a battle. Asleep, the fight doesn't end. Only, it's not with the people surrounding you. The battle's between you and your head.

( 4 a.m. )

Tossing and turning below the sheets. Eyes stirring beneath closed lids. You wish for Morpheus to finally pay you a visit but he doesn't come until the early hour. Until then, you're left alone with your thoughts and a longing for the old nights when you used to receive a heavy dose of lethargy once you hit the mattress; a drug so powerful your eyes close the moment it hits you. But those nights are long gone, so you stay up late against your will with no choice but to leave your bed once the sun rises.

( 5 a.m. )

These artists, they go to sleep without even washing the stains of paint from their skin. They were it proudly while walking the streets up until they crawl under the sheets. And when they wake up, it's straight to their paints and brushes they go again. They wait until the sun begins it ascent to capture the exact shades and hues that make the sky their canvas. The silence is their music, early in the morning when no one else can be awake to disturb the pictures they paint in their minds before they can transfer it onto the canvas.

( 6 a.m. )

This is when it all ends. The words, the dreams, the conversations, the pain. This hour was made for everyone; for people to finally awaken back to same reality they faced yesterday. This hour calls for you to be brave, my dear. To once again go through another day with pretend smiles, to once again face the monotonous side of life. But if it gets too hard for you, here's something to get you through the day: the night eagerly awaits you with promises of the unspoken. Whether dark, strange, or beautiful, those things are those only the stars would whisper about. And the night eagerly awaits for you to retake your place among them.

Author's Note

My first solid work after my writer's block-induced hiatus. Reviews are appreciated!

Reviews

[Quinn W]

Wow. That's all I can muster up to say. This is so amazing. The tone in it reminds of The Tell Tale Heart in some ways. It has such a yearning feeling to it. I loved this so much. It brings such a mysterious feeling as well. I find that when I can't sleep that it's best not to fight it. I just sit up in bed, grab a notebook, and start writing down random words. You'd be surprised the inspiration you can get from it.

[thaleeyaLuna]

Amazing work! Maybe that writer's block was just to prepare you to write something as grand as this. I was smiling while reading this the whole time. And that rarely happens. Which means you've done a great job. You made it feel like this person here is wide awake and very alive at the mentioned hours while the rest of the world was silent and asleep. You are very talented. Great job! :)

[Chrys Marie]

Thank you so much for this! I'm glad I made you smile :)