a/n: two versions of the same poem, here. the first is the original, the second is a rewrite. i can't decide which i prefer. thoughts?

it's just the usual three a.m. loneliness,
feeling detached, disconnected from the rest of the world.
it's not so bad, really,
just a little painful. (the sour taste
of the past disappearing.)
it's your own damn fault -
you shouldn't be such an insomniac.

it's just the usual three a.m. loneliness.
feeling disconnected,
detached from the rest of the world.
it's not so bad, really it's not,
just a little painful. so many memories,
the dull throb of not-quite-forgotten nights
keeping you from falling asleep.
leaving you empty, hollow, wishing for
someone - anyone - to be with you,
just a body to hold.

(well, it's your own damn fault -
you shouldn't be such an insomniac.)