3 am

Again, in the city, walking the night away,

for there's no safe place for my spirit to stay.

No calm, no rest, the thoughts are too loud;

can't ask for help – I'm still too proud.

Wandering, writing, a poet's madness,

lost in a cloud of hollow sadness.

Dissociating, under artificial lights,

drained of emotion, losing internal fights.

And I'm fake and lifeless like a cold street lamp,

no fire in the wilderness – a lonely camp.

No one to give meaning to the hieroglyphs engraved

in the fabric of my soul, still waiting to be saved.

It's as if someone was deleted from the start,

one whose disappearance left a whole in my heart.

All my life: moments, that should have been shared,

for this mess of loneliness, I was not prepared.

Where are you? Why don't you come?

I keep waiting, alone, and numb.