There is no such thing as awake
Anymore.
I wake up asleep, and dream the colors for the day.

What I dream is better than what I see.
Seeing is scary and dreaming isn't so much.

The pillow is comforting and the "fresh" air
Smells like cigarettes and floats curse words
Around as the clouds do.

The rustle of leaves beneath my feet are loud and alive and dew is gross and makes my socks wet.

I close my eyes to shut out the light you left in the sky
I don't like it.
It tastes like chloraseptic,
and my throat hurts from crying all day
but I don't want to be healed.

When I lay down and close my eyes I'm
Awake.
And when I dream I'm awake reliving your last car ride.
So sleep isn't nice to me anymore
and I shiver and sweat.

I press my hands into my eyes
like pushing an emergency stop button.
I hate my sleepy dreams and wish reality was a dream.

So my head hurts
my eyes are sore
and in every cough a piece of my voice falls into my lap.

This is my life now,
Not insomnia
but medicine
Since you're not breathing
and you're not here
anymore.