May 27

Three AM

It was three,
A time of day,
When only the sound of the faint breeze,
Found its way through my open window,
My eyes tired,
My eyelids heavy,
Ready for sleep,
But no matter the length of time that I wait,
No matter the sheep that I count in my head, 
No matter the quiet sound of rain coming from my phone,
I can't sleep.

I have a relationship,
Not the kind that most people have,
The kind that is only awake at three,
I soon give in and put in my earbuds,
Turn on someone else's playlist,
And sink into thought, 
The kind of thoughts that only begin to stir at three,
The ones that wait until you have let your guard down,
The ones that make three turn to six,
The ones that go back to sleep when you get up,
Bags taking their rightful place under your eyes,
The thoughts that will now wait patiently,
Till three tomorrow morning.