deepundergroundpoetry.com
3 am
They say 3 am is the devil’s hour.
Yet here I lay awake late each night
Thinking of you.
I guess it’s the devil whispering in my ears about the feeling of missing you.
I occupy myself each day,
To forget about every lie you’ve told.
To forget about if your intentions were ever genuine.
To forget about the damage you’ve done.
Yet the moment I lay in bed at night,
All the time I shared with you comes back to mind.
Now I’m conflicted if these are the memories I miss, or if these are the feelings the devil whispers into my ears.
They say 3 am is the devil’s hour.
Yet here I lay awake late each night
Thinking of you.
I guess me and the devil have one thing in common, and it’s the thought of you.
I guess it’s the devil whispering in my ears about the feeling of missing you.
But now it’s 3 am. And I no longer miss you.
The devil no longer whisper into my ears about the feeling of you.
Yet here I lay awake late each night
Thinking of you.
I guess it’s the devil whispering in my ears about the feeling of missing you.
I occupy myself each day,
To forget about every lie you’ve told.
To forget about if your intentions were ever genuine.
To forget about the damage you’ve done.
Yet the moment I lay in bed at night,
All the time I shared with you comes back to mind.
Now I’m conflicted if these are the memories I miss, or if these are the feelings the devil whispers into my ears.
They say 3 am is the devil’s hour.
Yet here I lay awake late each night
Thinking of you.
I guess me and the devil have one thing in common, and it’s the thought of you.
I guess it’s the devil whispering in my ears about the feeling of missing you.
But now it’s 3 am. And I no longer miss you.
The devil no longer whisper into my ears about the feeling of you.
Published 5th Jan 2018
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