This poem is for everyone who is reading it at midnight. It's hard to be encouraging to you. I'm writing this at midnight. I can't sleep, either The never ending rush of existence that lives inside of you, I feel it I feel it, too At night I become a display case, Showing everyone every shred of me Every brutal scar that my clothing couldn't hide Covered up by waking up Or the clock striking seven, Forcing another sleepless night Slowly begining to fade the nightmares from before Nightmares aren't dreams, they're memories I show them on my skin like tatoos All night, I try and hand my consciousness to you All night, I try to convince myself there is a reason to wait for tomorrow All night I face self loathing and terror Every night I wish I weren't alone Some nights, I remember that I'm not
For everyone with insomnia... You are not alone. I know how it feels. I understand. Please comment :)
Thank you for all of the support on this poem. I'm glad to see that people were able to relate :) Thank you to everyone who shared their experiences, too. I would like to encourage everyone who is reading this to talk about it, because every experience is different. Thank you everyone who has read and liked this poem as well. :) :) :)