It feels like yesterday.

How we stood in our window, smoking cigarettes

Listening to our song, with the sun on our faces

Laughing, kissing

Talking about our future with hope in our eyes

Looking at each other with butterflies in our stomachs

Now those plans are gone, just like you

Our song is no longer our song

The sun is replaced with clouds

Our laughter is replaced with silence and tears

The butterflies are gone

All there's left are grief and the question why?

I lie awake.
The half moon,
whose soft white shine
invades my room
and makes the tears that rest on my cheeks sparkle;
illuminates half of my face
so that the moon and I
can become a whole.

Only me
and the silence of 2 A.M.

Outside goes the party-goer
-knackered and filled with a portion of fresh memories
that won't be found in the morning-
to his rest.

Only he
and the silence of 2 A.M.

Outside stumbles the drunkard
-with repressed thoughts and events
that he couldn't erase out of his memory by a bottle-
to his end.

Only he
and the silence of 2 A.M.

Outside staggers the broken one
-with blood that’s drowning in wine and as red as the lips of the woman he tries to forget-
to his death.

Only he
and the silence of 2 AM.
L.T.