Three In The Morning

Three in the morning
mind blank
screaming keeping me awake
voices of dreams long lost
cram themselves
attempting to block them out has no effect
only amps up the volume
and then there are the voices outside of me
shouting,
"FUCK YOU!"
"GO TO HELL!"
picking at the cuts
forcing open the wounds up
the searing pain distracts from the yelling
but only for a while
glass breaking
a few seconds of silence
the blood from the cut trickles down my arm, cold
the front door slams
the icing on the cake
four in the morning
mind blank