4:00 AM is for the lonely.
The heartbeat inside my chest. The clock ticking consistently on the wall. The steady noises of the street at night. Sounds that normally don’t receive a second thought, that soothe my tired soul to sleep. But tonight they are a thunderous pounding, a deafening thumping, and a vociferous roar.
Yet none of this compares to the volume of the thoughts in my head. The true reason behind the sleepless nights and the clock that reads 4:00 AM. The aching self-loathing that slips into my brain like a thief in the night. It manifests itself in scars and burns and hates to be forgotten.
They don’t love you. No one loves you. You’re just a fool.
Just like the ticking of the clock, the thoughts play themselves, maybe phrased differently sometimes or assigned to specific circumstances, but nevertheless repeat.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. A wicked pattern.
And so, 4:00 AM is for the lonely. Not because they’re by themselves, but because they are too broken to believe in the company they have.
- Just some thoughts. I wrote again today.