'It’s funny how when 3 am comes we turn into some dope ass poets.'
— (via reefy12spxxd)


Do you ever get like super vulnerable late at night that you just want to spill your heart out and say how you feel because you’ve been holding it in for so long and you just need some ventilation and there’s just something about two in the morning that makes me lose my filter and say the things I would never have the guts to say when the sun is up.


The rain is a blanket
for your voice,
for your shadow.

There are lampposts
out there, weeping
in yellow
toward your footprints.

Fire is the way we talk
when our mouths are closed.

I want you
to come.