My dreams are more vivid now
I'm out of the fog
I have a schedule, a routine, a home
Yet somehow I still can't sleep
I stay up too late
Just thinking, being, processing myself
Eternally exhausted
Permanent gray weights sit underneath my eyes, pulling them down towards the inferno
I feel pretty though, I get attention
I feel light most days
Until night comes
I slip, I fall, I carry this weight until I'm alone
And it all comes crashing down
In the fog of night.