More words have been spilled
Over staying up too late
Than any other **** subject
That ever comes to this tired mind
When the nights drag on to mornings
And I wonder
Why the hell I'm still awake
There's nothing left to do
But turn that angst into words
And slap them down on a page
And pray that at my age
That lyrical Ambien
Knocks me right out
I've written more poems and dissertations about my bedtime
Than minutes
I sleep each night
Than pillows and sheets
I've owned in my life
Than times
I've ever made the bed
Than bedside books
I've ever read
Than midnight snacks
I've tried to sneak
Than my family's cumulative
REM cycles per week
Than my lifetime
Running count of sheep
Than strategies
I've tried to go to sleep
But when the clock strikes
oh-my-god-is-that-the-actual-time
Before I lay down my head
In the end
I won't go to bed
I'll give in again
And let the words flow
Cause staying up late
Is all that I know
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
More words have been spilled
Over staying up too late
Than any other **** subject
That ever comes to this tired mind
When the nights drag on to mornings
And I wonder
Why the hell I'm still awake
There's nothing left to do
But turn that angst into words
And slap them down on a page
And pray that at my age
That lyrical Ambien
Knocks me right out
I've written more poems and dissertations about my bedtime
Than minutes
I sleep each night
Than pillows and sheets
I've owned in my life
Than times
I've ever made the bed
Than bedside books
I've ever read
Than midnight snacks
I've tried to sneak
Than my family's cumulative
REM cycles per week
Than my lifetime
Running count of sheep
Than strategies
I've tried to go to sleep
But when the clock strikes
oh-my-god-is-that-the-actual-time
Before I lay down my head
In the end
I won't go to bed
I'll give in again
And let the words flow
Cause staying up late
Is all that I know
