Late Night Poetry

2 a.m

It's 2 am,
And the lights outside are flashing
Even though I know they're not really there
A shadow makes its way to the door
I wonder how it manages
When there is no
Light source
But I know most things don't
When I see them reflected in the glass

It's 2 am,
I grasp at empty air
Swinging malice like roses
Only I hold its thorns
I gave my bedsheets to the floor
To prevent the ceiling from
Hanging them

Its 2 am,
And all I want to do is sleep
On the bathroom floor
Letting whispers of the tiles share
rumours to
Next of kin
And all I really wanted was to let things go
But too much grief is left behind
I never meant it to hurt this much

I'm sorry...

But not sorry enough
For me to stop

It's 2am
The colour of regret fills the empty spaces
Of should I, could I, would I?
My lips, throat burns from the choices I made
I know it was stupid
I know it was
I didn't stop to smell the roses,
Instead chose to make artificial ones
From the wounds left behind

The lights stop flashing.  

(b.h)