Head in the Clouds {Poetry}

Three a.m Thoughts

late at night, when the tears start to flow.

nothing seems to glow down below in the dark.

a girl burns her finger.

trying to relight her flame for the sinner.

red marks, left on her fingertips.

all those little quips hurt the same.

now she lays awake, her fingers drumming.

a soft glow from her phone, her heart strumming.

convincing her closest friend, suicide isn't the answer .

yet here she is, holding the bottle of pills to find her answer.

her flame barely lit, her fingertip still burning.

years later and she's still learning.

learning how to survive and not dive.

dive deep into the darkness until five a.m.

a soft whimper, echoing through her room.

her floor left unkept, untouched by a broom.

the three a.m. thoughts are killing her.

and her friend is the one ending her.

tearing her apart without noticing.

trying to relight all the candles without anyone noticing.

she's doomed, not to live past her eighteenth year.

for each year, she loses her heart to tears.