Sleep is sweet and soft, however
hard at the same time.
Most of the time, it's harder than it is soft.
There's a descent through heavy, thick layers of fog and
sometimes you get stuck in between, where
vibrations run through you, holding you captive.
It's a delightfully interesting sensation, but it's not sleep.
Sometimes I run there on my own accord,
for my curiosity has been stricken.
In a fog
When I walk down the hall
All the things I see are there,
But only half there to me.
The light is too bright.
I pass things
I see things
I get to places,
But my head feels half numb
And my forehead feels heavy -
My legs still know how to walk though,
So I continue to float.
Here it is not.
I struggle to
Keep my eyelids from touching,
And to focus on the information around me.
I am the old cat
Who can't remember
That it's in the process of being fed.
Read the same sentence again
I only feel awake when the
Moon and stars are high,
While the world around me buzzes
My eyes cross and blur.
— The End —