3 am

I can't sleep anymore

most nights, past the witching hour, my mind bursts into consciousness, and my eyes open

im awake, and alive, and miserable 

everyone hates to wake up at 3 in the morning 

that's when ill thoughts creep into my brain 

then again, that's how I see myself most days

a champion of negative will

i lie in a malaise, while cars and night birds and things that go bump in the night creep past my window 

yet all that my conscious mind focuses on is my grandmother's snores

they rumble like bear growls in some forgotten cave in Yosemite

and echo in the halls 

I love her, and I love very few people 

the negative thoughts creep in

she'll die one day

so will my mother

so will my father

one day, her rumbling snores will stop, and the hallway will softly croon in emptiness 

I can't sleep anymore

i lie awake with bags under my eyes

the nightingales' songs try to lull me back

but cigarette smoke and gun powder out my window keeps my eyes open and heart sad 

the negative thoughts creep in

i've forgotten how to be happy

how to make friends

how to please a woman

to carry a tune 

to be human 

to be 

maybe when Jesus Christ suffered in the garden of Gethsename, it was 3 am

sweating blood for mankind's short comings

he doesnt deserve this

I would've taken his beatings

suffering's monument 

i can't sleep anymore

the blankets are cold and the pillows, too warm

while the roaches and mice nestle under my bed, dreaming dreams only vermin dream of 

i lie awake in bed, thinking of all the failed relationships I've had and the people I've abandoned 

and I'm sorry

im so fucking sorry 

I think everyone wants to die at 3 am

then face the new dawn two hours later