love we give in buckets

62. the lonely hour

let her tell you about 2 am,
the lonely hour

just wants to be remembered. a day will come when you and everyone around her, will be gone. and that's not because you'll have left. it's because she'll have given up finally. too tired to live everyday just for it to be 2am again every morning. destroy all her dreams and hopes. feel like a failure. that's the biggest burden of all. it's that's time when everything just crumbles and all laugh and smiles turn into reality. morbid silence. demons hidden deep within. everyone and everything against her. it's the time of sins.

time when depression hits the hardest. when it takes her breath away.
depression is not easy to live with. it is a whirlpool. no matter how hard one tries, it is quite impossible, to break out of it. kept pulling her back in every time she tried. crazy winds. boiling waters. passing seasons. changing faces. how many faces for all the different people. need to create a new mask for every new stranger. make new lies to hide the sad truth about the real face that lies underneath those fake masks of happy smiles. the real face is no longer a face anymore now. more like a ripped page out of a book. a burnt petal of a white rose. a forgotten stain on the table. spilled ink from an unwanted pen. it's not easy to live through those hours of deep silence and fear. of anxiety and sweat and harsh truths surfacing through the fog. to live the pain and hurt, in the lonely hours of the early black morning. the time when she hurt the most just happened to be 2am.

she's waiting for that day, when 2 am will no longer hold the meaning of hopelessness.