It's 1:15 and I can’t sleep.
The world of dreams doesn't want my company.
My thoughts are chaotic and blank all at once
Every night it’s becoming harder and I fear
The escape of sleep will no longer be mine.
Have I become so hallow inside even my mind is left grasping at straws?
Colors are no longer vivid and music has lost its melody.
Who am I?
I feel and yet I am numb.
I've become sick of myself,
Sick of the thoughts that only tear me inside,
Sick of the actions that bring no satisfaction,
Sick of the empty life I have forgotten how to fill.
Where the night used to bring solace
Now it ignites endless cycles of self-recrimination
That burn from the inside out.
Another minute has come and gone,
Dawn approaches and life goes on.
1:15 is not giving any answers tonight.
Maybe tomorrow the night will be my friend again.