Don't call me at 3 in the morning

words written for a friend

Don't call me at three in the morning, cuz I aint gonna pick up the phone.

We're done and yet we never really got started, this journey we've departed is over, forever.

I dont care if this is clever but you never grew, you never knew, you never learned or earned anything over this period of time.

Don't call me at three in the morning cuz I anit pickin up the phone. I don't care if you end up alone.

If you wanted better you should've gotten smarter. For starters become less dependent, let your intents be independent.

Quit forgiving and forgetting those that never meant what they said. The insincere apologizes and so called "I love you(s)". Those words that used to mean something, mean nothing. Especially when they come from mouths that resemble asses and fall on deaf ears.

Don't call me at three in the morning cuz I ain't pickin up the phone. I don't care about the tears you shed or if your ego goes unfed.

At 3 am just go to bed, and think about the trouble you caused and the feelings you hurt. This isn't rhetorical, the answers are there. So find them on your own, until that day the kindness I once shared with you won't be shown. So don't call me at three in the morning cuz I won't pick up the phone. I'll be in my bed doin me, resting up for the things I need to be.

If you're awake at all hours of the night, don't come looking for a shoulder to cry on, look for what you shoulder on you own. Get grown but don't rush, speak your mind but know when to hush. Don't give every meaningless glance a blush.

Just because you see me doesn't mean I'm there. Just because we don't talk doesn't mean I don't care. Just because I smiled in the past doesn't mean this was something I wanted to bear. Just because you closed your eyes doesn't mean you can escape your reflection's glare.

These words may hurt and if they do, then good. That means these words reached their mark as they should. I did what I can since you did what you could. You need to feel some pain, real pain, not some movie star hollywood vanity kind. The kind that stings deep, leaves scars, and is hard to find. You need to be wounded, the way you wounded other's, even if they don't notice because of their delusions and eye covers. 

The nights of our youthful and repentant past are gone, now is the new verse of our tragic love song. The sad realization that all that has been done is wrong. Making this future even less perceivable as we find a place to belong.

Don't call me three in the morning, cuz I aint picking up the phone...