Staying up, I say, Staying up late, letting it all come out. Staying up late, writing everything out. Staying up to my own time of choice,

Staying up, letting my mind make noise. Staying up until it interferes, Staying up until the pain appears. Four AM—writing these out. Four AM—letting it pour out.

Four AM is when it all creeps in. The dark feels heavier, The past feels too close. The silence stretches long, And the thoughts won’t let go. It’s tough to handle— I want to make it stop, But there’s no control Once it all starts to drop.

Slowly, yet surely, it’s taking over. Slowly, I’m drowning in a sea of memories. Why am I drowning in my past? Why do the words and thoughts pull me down so fast?

I want it to stop. The silence is deafening, The thoughts are suffocating. I want to take control, But I’m too far deep.

It’s four AM, and I’m slowly drowning. Drowning is what I do. Drowning has become a part of me too.

But I don’t run from it anymore. I don’t fight what’s already there. The pain shaped me, But it no longer defines my despair.