Isolated, behind windowed curtains. It's at 2am,
your room feels like jail and
insomnia
like venom injected in your veins.

These days I'm looking at the moon for guidance,
waning away until I find a layer inside me
that isn't sick
with longing that physically hurts.

I'm searching
for loopholes in fate
and connections between drowning
and black holes to **** me dry.

My blood is just below
simmering,
but I lack the spark
in my eyes.

I need
to go to sleep
so I can dream
to be alive.