everyone else is curled up in their cozy beds, sleeping soundly under the comfort of warm blankets, letting the night fade away as they leap into their dreams. but love, who thinks about those few, who are also curled up in their beds– wishing they were asleep, too? who thinks about us, who are waging wars against ourselves as soon as the clock strikes past twelve? who thinks about our lonely three ams, our tear-drenched pillows, and the splattered blood on our bathroom floor? who thinks about those sleepless, bloodshot eyes that long to close forever? no one. not even one. so we lie in our beds, wide-eyed. waiting for a text message to appear, waiting for someone to care; wishing that the moon hears our silent plea, and hoping that the stars would take us into our dreams before the nightmares visit when the time for sweet slumber is all but gone.