3am

I always wondered what it would be,

to sit up late,

maybe until three and ask you

‘what does love mean?’,

but you won’t answer,

and although it seems fine…

we’ll never be that word.

I used to think that love was real,

but then I saw you cry that day

I told you I loved someone

else.

Maybe it was okay because I thought

I was protecting you,

but they never told me this in school.

The foolish part is that I

know you never belonged to me

anyway.

You were always meant to

be with

someone

else.

The vodka used to taste so bitter

when it was taken from a bottle

that wasn’t mine.

I did this time and time again,

and I never realised where

I went wrong.

I could write you a song,

I could create you a poem,

but it will never replace

her.

I know she doesn’t even care,

because she talks about

how hipster she is now,

and how Tumblr is her

‘god’.

Though dear lord,

I have watched her smoke at the

back of church,

and seen her curse the heavens

above.

I made her shove her

feelings down her throat

and swallow them

whole.

I was like a small

mole which just became

bigger.

Constantly creating havoc

in the body,

wondering how I could change

her mind.

I was so unkind.

Maybe I’m sorry, but then

I remember I’m not.

I always want to wake you at

three,

and ask why you chose me.

Though you never chose me,

you wanted her,

I was just a monster

in human

skin.

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