Who I am At 3:03 In The Morning

On the nights I cannot sleep, here you lie not next to me but within my sanguine thoughts.
My ears listen pleadingly, depserately for a noise.
Any noise other than the sound of moving air circulating the dark air of my bed room, and the sound of my own thick sighs.
I am hoping, just maybe, that my screen would flash, even though the night is fading into morning and the chances of you even being close to concious is close to null.
But I'm still banking on the thought of you, still thinking about me.

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alyssaenrile

A poem of late night wandering thoughts.

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