3AM

It’s Friday, the night kept glowin’ long after the stars,

Two late shows back-to-back, the tacos gone cold and chips still close at hand.

Candy wrappers crinkled soft, and beers we poured for the long talk,

Then you whispered you’d be gone before the morning sky.

Black hair like midnight rain, brown eyes catching every light,

We held our breath for endings we didn’t want to keep,

If I could rewind, I’d pause the clock and hold you tighter still,

Keep you in the afterglow where the room forgets to tune the world.

A week has passed since then, the days drift by in quiet streams,

I’m counting every heartbeat till your memory returns to me.

Now you’re gone and I miss the way your laughter filled the air,

Your hand finding mine in the glow of a paused-displayed stare.

Saturday I wrote your name in lines that tremble, soft and true,

Three days till you leave—three chances to wish I’d run away with you.

We played rock, paper, scissors, just for laughs in the glow,

Paper on both our hands, and then you grabbed mine slow.

Tiny victory in the moment, a quiet, shared surprise,

The world paused in that gesture, right before goodbye.

Black hair, brown eyes, that gentle, easy grin,

The couch we left behind still holds the warmth you gave.

Three breaths between the nights, three days before you go,

I named the tune Tuesday hoping time would slow its flow.

If I could rewind, I’d pause the clock and hold you tighter still,

Keep you in the afterglow where the room forgets to tune the world.

A week has passed since then, the days drift by in quiet streams,

I’m counting every heartbeat till your memory returns to me.

Now you’re gone and I miss the way your laughter filled the air,

Your hand finding mine in the glow of a paused-displayed stare.

Saturday I wrote your name in lines that tremble, soft and true,

Three days till you leave—three chances to wish I’d stayed with you.

Black hair, brown eyes, that smile that lit the night,

If I could, I’d press rewind and stay in every sigh,

But the clock keeps marching on, and I’m learning how to fly.

If I could rewind, I’d pause the clock and hold you tighter still,

Keep you in the afterglow where the room forgets to tune the world.

A week has passed since then, the days drift by in quiet streams,

I’m counting every heartbeat till your memory returns to me.

It’s Friday again, a week since the movie marathon and your hug goodbye,

Now you’re gone and I wish I could’ve hugged you longer that night.

Black hair, brown eyes, that easy, honest smile

And Tuesday keeps the door ajar, for the song we never got to write.