3AM

A poem wriiten when I couldn't sleep one night.

Sprawled out breathless on your bed at 3am
you listen to the torture of your alarm clock.
Time
seems to have slowed down because it hates
you -

Massacred pictures lay spread out
on your floor of a whisphered memory
you failed to let go of -
a massacre performed
because you didn't know how else to pass
the time.

Sprawled out breathless on your bed at 3am
you give up waiting for that cold
hour before dawn.