4 am.

It’s 4am, my deepest hour
Still my darkest moment, although in the summer
So I lay my head down like a dying flower..
It helps

It’s 4am, it’s my walls, they’re crashing
Closing in on me
It’s suppressed emotions all of a sudden resurfacing..
It hurts

It’s 4am
As my memories overwhelm me
My heart becomes unsettled
Pulsating as each scene of the past is brought to the present
When I smiled(/0.01), frowned
Swore to withhold and tried to restrain
When you slipped but I stood
And I cried but you smiled
When I ran but you soared
You swayed but I danced
It’s hard to run hard to imagine being set free
Because you can’t really escape your demons if they reside internally

It’s 4am and I cannot pray
Because although we ask of the Lord one thing
He does what’s best for us
He might take you away

It’s 4am, it’s reoccurring it’s repetitive
It’s my trail of thoughts, it’s me drowning in nostalgia
And I’ve just completed yet another cycle
I hate the early mornings. I hate the number 4




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