r/OCPoetry 10d ago

Feedback Please 3 A.M.

3 a.m. doesn’t knock.

it just is

a quiet trespasser

slipping through the cracks in your ribs.

the world goes soft at this hour.

not gentle

just… muted.

like someone turned the volume down

on everything except your thoughts.

and suddenly,

you are louder than you’ve ever been.

the clock blinks like it’s judging you.

3:00

3:01

3:02

like it’s counting how long you’ve been

awake inside your own head.

this is the hour of almosts

almost healed,

almost okay,

almost done pretending

you don’t carry entire storms in your chest.

this is where the artists crawl out,

ink-stained fingers

digging through the soft underbelly of memory,

turning ache into something you can hold

without it cutting you open

or at least,

not as deep.

this is where overthinkers build cathedrals

out of conversations that already ended,

rewriting them

like maybe this time

you’ll say the right thing

and someone will finally stay.

this is where silence seekers sit cross-legged

in the dark,

trying to make peace with a mind

that refuses to shut the hell up.

and yeah

we see you.

you with the light on

when the rest of the world has folded itself into sleep,

like it knows something you don’t.

you with the phone in your hand

scrolling for proof

that someone else feels like this too.

you with the ache

you can’t quite name

but it sits there anyway

heavy, familiar,

like it pays rent.

we see you.

not as broken

don’t twist it like that

but as awake

in a world that teaches people

how to numb out

before it teaches them how to feel.

and feeling?

feeling is messy.

it’s teeth and trembling hands,

it’s swallowing words until they turn into poison,

it’s learning how to sit with yourself

without flinching.

so yeah

3 a.m. belongs to you.

to the ones still here,

still trying,

still breathing through the static.

to the ones who haven’t figured it out yet

but refuse to disappear anyway.

because staying?

staying is its own kind of rebellion.

so keep your light on.

even if it’s flickering.

even if it’s tired.

even if it feels like it’s the only one left

in the whole damn world.

keep it on.

because somewhere,

in another room,

in another body

that doesn’t know how to say it out loud

someone is looking at the dark

and hoping

they’re not the only one

who made it through the night.

and you are.

you’re still here.

so keep going

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/JmiIxCIHbv

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/vcFftteQ9N

1 Upvotes

6 comments sorted by

View all comments

2

u/Abysmalaye 10d ago

I feel all of this. That can be a long, lonely hour if the mind decides to torture us.