3.04am, And The World Is Deserted...

3.04am, and the world is deserted
I watch the rain splash down, attack the ground
Skimming the window ledge, I catch glimpse of a broken
Old watch. Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tock. Tock...

Bored with this item, my eyes choose to observe my bedroom walls;
Personal sketches, train tickets, posters of my favourite
Punk bands - the kind who know no boundaries.
Love notes. Soft Jokes. Sweet nothings.

Photographs. Agonising to consider, but they reel in great memories.
I play a movie to go with each image, I watch myself
Smile again, then I watch myself fade.
We faded, but I can still see you.

How can it be that the closest
Thing I came to know is
Killing me, and still I can't let it go?
Love notes. Soft jokes. Sweet nothings?

I lower the blinds, sink deep
Into my pillow.
I play music through my headphones to drown
The windy rain thrashing upon my window.

I can't write anymore,
Just know in my head
I should have stayed in bed.

by Isabelle Reynolds

Comments (1)

Great poem. I like the way you flow through from the window to the clock then to the posters and such on your wall. Isnt amazing what can be written about everyday objects we all take for granted? I can identify with the whole reaching out for something that is no longer reaching back. You will find a way to let go.