Somehow I always end up here:

12:30 am, wide awake

Sad, bitter, and lonely

I'm exhausted,

But my heart won’t let me rest

My thoughts,

Filled with bad poetry

and pathetic ramblings

My sadness is not beautiful,

My loneliness is not a tragedy,

I am not the only one who feels this way

and yet here I am lying on my back,

staring at the ceiling and wondering,

Where are the others who share my grief?

And when will I ever be at peace?