3:00 A.M. Confession

Do you drown out your sorrows

with whiskey, cocaine,

a 3:00 a.m. panic

and a prayer for change?

Do your hands shake

when the silence gets too loud,

when your heart forgets

what calm feels like?

Do you chase peace

the same way you chased the high —

desperate, trembling,

half alive, half gone?

Because I do.

Every night I beg the dark

to let me start over,

and every morning,

I wake up still burning.