The Thirteenth Hour

Sitting alone once again writing a love song in my head, feelings so light, feelings so happy, the clock it smiles with me. I continue to write page upon page until suddenly things start to change.

Midnight feelings, doubt filled dreams, Screaming inside me, cleaning my heart out, wanting to breathe, killing my insides these impossible midnight feelings.

I was right or was I wrong? Things change at this point no matter how they might seem. Things never seem right when that clock strikes at night bringing along a brand new day filled with hurt, filled with pain, but what can I do? I can’t wish it away. Things always seem wrong with you as slowly the clock strikes the inevitable hour... The thirteenth hour.

These midnight feelings seem so true as a heart rips in two, doubtful dreams filled with screams I can hear, screams that call my name, cleaning out my heart and needing, no, wanting to breathe, secrets kept deep inside that I can no longer hide but what can I do?

The clock strikes midnight and everything starts to change. It's like another hour in the day where the world fades away and I'm left there to stay. Left in unfinished heart beats and missed blinks, feeling something now as I start to see that the world around me in unclean. Things may be different at night but that hour is the truth as everything fades away. The world seems to fill in with feelings so deep and secrets no longer discreet.

The clock strikes again pulling away from the dream... The dream of what is known as the thirteenth hour to me.

Yet when I look back at the clock, it reads twelve 'o' one no longer smiling to my face but frowning with a hint of disgrace. I see it all there not an hour but a tiny minute!

I suddenly realize I feel change within that minute feeling like an hour to get there. The thirteenth hour to be exact.

No matter how crazy things get I can see that sitting here writing love songs is not for me because no matter how hard we try to cheat the day it always catches up and no matter how hard I try to write it out, it catches up in an Alice in Wonderland way.

The clock strikes again pulling away from a dream... The dream of what is known as the thirteenth hour to me.