3 am

Isn’t it fucked up,

How I love you the most,

When she loves you the least,

At 3am,

When the stars are our flashlights,

You’re drunk,

raw with emotions,

and Beautiful,

the silver light of the moon

Illuminating your skin

through the car window.

 

by ForgetMeNotMyWords

http://youngwritersproject.org/node/82018

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