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: Share on X (Opens in new window) X Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading...