This poem is for everyone who is reading it at midnight.
It's hard to be encouraging to you.
I'm writing this at midnight.
I can't sleep, either
The never ending rush of existence that lives inside of you,
I feel it
I feel it, too
At night I become a display case,
Showing everyone every shred of me
Every brutal scar that my clothing couldn't hide
Covered up by waking up
Or the clock striking seven,
Forcing another sleepless night
Slowly begining to fade the nightmares from before
Nightmares aren't dreams, they're memories
I show them on my skin like tatoos
All night,
I try and hand my consciousness to you
All night,
I try to convince myself there is a reason to wait for tomorrow
All night I face self loathing and terror
Every night I wish I weren't alone
Some nights,
I remember that I'm not
For everyone with insomnia... You are not alone. I know how it feels. I understand.
Please comment :)
Thank you for all of the support on this poem. I'm glad to see that people were able to relate :) Thank you to everyone who shared their experiences, too. I would like to encourage everyone who is reading this to talk about it, because every experience is different. Thank you everyone who has read and liked this poem as well. :) :) :)