thoughts at 3-am

what’s the point when you’ve become a cynic,
when everything disappoints you to shatters,
friends wisp like smoke,
laughter blurred from the past.

what do you do when everything around you dims,
so paltry, dark.
when you thought you were doing better,

but you’re only welcomed by a drop into the jagged rocks.

people have changed.
you haven’t.

how do you move on, how do you ever move on -
you’re just fucking stuck in the past.

what do you do, how is it possible to keep going.

the moon is falling yet your eyelids won’t shut,
sleep cycle disrupted, sensory system distorted.

you okay?
no