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Emma E Jones Oct 2013
why it is that i find myself alone again

i really just don't know

how many times do i cross peoples

minds

none i think probably none

if i did they would have called

but instead i m going to sit here and cry

myself to sleep again
Emma E Jones Oct 2013
why sleep
when i can
wander the streets
after dusk
on my own

I follow my demons
to a door
that leads
nowhere

silent and alone
because nobody
else seems
to care
if i will be there

so for now
I'll slip away
at dusk
and wait
for a phone call
that will never
come
Emma E Jones Oct 2013
i'll admit
i have this drug addiction
and it getting pretty bad
my drug of choice though
is not what you would think  

i wait in line with all the other addicts
to get my daily dose
to keep me going
just to stay in this world

it comes in so many forms
i like mine with a little bit of milk
oh and some sugar

its come to a point where i
choose it over sleep
many nights in a row

caffeine is my drug of choice
Emma E Jones Oct 2013
my broken finger
I've stopped protecting it
because the pain is a reminder
of how real this all is
Emma E Jones Oct 2013
how many nights will it take
before i realize
how truly little, people
care about me
sitting unnoticed
silently full of sadness
because so many others
project theres upon

everybody else
tonight i need to leave
because i cant take
being treated like this
anymore

all i want is somebody to care
somebody to be excited to see me
i guess I'm just
not that important anymore
Emma E Jones Sep 2013
how can i explain in words
what the dark feels like
to somebody who hasn't seen

some you know
its found a way
in their heads too
through the cracks

seeping in from nowhere

quiet now but just the voices
some bring me back
others draw me in deeper
to a well of ink filled sorrow
Emma E Jones Sep 2013
that night with no sleep
it rest in my head
with the smell of cigarettes
floating through the air

ladders were placed at a window
we made cookie dough i believe
around midnight the real night began

poems read allowed
with words lingering
far into to the night

out in the cold many cigarettes
smoldered in each hand
i lost count as to how many
after three

on the brink of dawn
i sat with coffee in hand
on top of my cold car roof
waiting for the sun to rise

clever words come to mind
as old acquaintances come
and judge me for sitting
and writing about what i see

after a walk
to clear me thoughts
i decide on donuts
with box in hand i climb
up the ladder to a dear friends room
curl up in bed
there i stay till noon

that sober night is my favorite
to remember
not a thought of sleep
only words carefully written
one sleepless night of summer, a favorite story
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