I lay on the edge of the bed.
I need to get up.
I can't.
The heat and safety provided here is too much to leave.
I sit for a while and think of ways I could get out of going to school.
Wretched school.
In the end I get up and I lazily dress myself then I leave.
YOU ARE READING
3AM
PoetryThese are poems. These are pieces of me pulled from the darkest part of my brain. These are not all one poem but they are all one book and they are all one brain. **strong language and possible triggers**
