each tick of the clock brings me closer to you

Her stereo still plays at 2am
and her eyes burn
like one thousand las vegas skylines.
The patterns in her ceiling can only comfort her for so long
(but she traces them all anyway).

The cold coffee never helped,
she spends her nights remembering to forget.
Her mother always warned her about love,
because her father walked out.
And she still hears her mother cry at night.

When she was a child, she'd wait on falling stars.
With her hands outstretched, she'd try to catch them,
but they just slipped between her fingers,
and she never caught one star (not even herself).

Trapped in her mind,
she hears the quiet things nobody ever hears.
It keeps her up at night and
she has become close friends with lonely 3am.
And when 4am passes, she murmurs hello,
greets 5am sadly, smiles politely at 6am.
And when 7am visits,
she is quite glad to say she missed it.