i sit in my room
at 3 am
trying to figure everything out
before the sun rises and my ego wakes.
my ego only sleeps for 4 hrs.
i only get to be vulnerable for
240 minutes out of 1,440.
so i think about everything and everyone while it sleeps.
whether or not im saving myself or sabotaging myself.
how far england is from new york
if my soul mate even exists in this universe or if i fucked things up so much that i missed my chance
and then i think about all the times i’ve been a shoulder to cry on,the friend with the excellent listening skills,the one who would pick up her phone whenever she was needed..
and how i never got that back…
I always wondered who superheroes went too when they didnt feel like being ‘super’ anymore; What made villains choose the antagonist role
….these are just 3 am thoughts though"
medusa the mad villain,june manson (via fuckyeahjaemanson)
"3 am" by me.
The assignment was to choose a line from another poem, and then begin a new poem using that line. I chose a line from Osoanon Nimuss’s poem “Absolutely Nothing”.
"It’s funny how many of the best poems are written at 3 am under the light of a single lamp in a dark room. Or in a notebook where no one is going to read them. How most of the best music, will never be heard because of one persons fear of bring judged and criticized by others. How much of the world are we really missing out on? 3 am is when you feel truly alive. When you suddenly understand the poet’s mind, the songwriter’s tune. The hour of the lovers, the lonely, the brave, and the silent."
3 am thoughts (via awhdreeeyxo)
We all write about 3 or 4 am because it is so damn poetic. However, have you been awake at 6 am in the city? Have you felt the fresh air of the morning on your soft lips? If you have not, then you should.
The way the sun rises over the city it is so romantic you will fall in love with the world. It shines over the ghetto streets and you somehow, just for a little bit, you let go of the heartbreak from the night before. The streets are empty but few souls walk the boulevards. And drunk people are asleep on the bus stops, I guess they were on their way home but sometimes home is under the naked sky. Fathers and mothers are on their way to work with a cup of coffee in their hand and messy thoughts in their head. The avenues are dirty with cigarettes packages and love letters but the lovely breeze will clean up. You will smile just a little bit when you know that the universe has given you one more chance to be alive.
Take a break from screaming into your pillow at 3 am, and crying your veins out at 4 am. Buy a ticket, a cup of coffee and get lost in the city you think you have known. You don’t. The world has so much to confess at 6 am in the morning."
Beautiful At 6 AM by Royla Asghar (via poems-of-madness)