Tired, but
instead of sleeping
I wake up.

I know not what to,
only that I want to.

In those places
I find myself
living.

I was never a hopeless romantic. I never believed in love. I guess things change when you meet someone. Now I’m just hopeless and romantic.

The mind is a rebel,
but also a tyrrant.
Take yourself down,
or be enslaved.

People like short poems,
But do poems like short people?

The day is grey
Saturday drowns with rain
It matches my insides
It wets the earth so I don't have to cry.

I hide under covers and believe in lies
Just to keep the sparkle persisting in my eyes
And I'm human too
But I like to solve people like puzzles
Offer free compassion for the weary
But sometimes I feel depleted
When I call out for help, no one can hear me.