August 22, 2014 Tom Atkins Poem: Three AM Three AM Sometimes the silence kills. Sometimes noise. Both what is in our heads and what stands outside. Painful deaths, all of them, but oddly, sometimes what tortures us, saves us late in the night when we are alone and yet never quite. Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading...