Apr 2018
My bed squeaks, filled
With empty thoughts.
I’d rather it be still,
Then sleep wouldn’t hide,
Scared of all the noise.
Grateful,
It’d bring with it dreams.
Sweet, golden ones
To fill my empty thoughts
With the warmth of you.
With empty thoughts.
I’d rather it be still,
Then sleep wouldn’t hide,
Scared of all the noise.
Grateful,
It’d bring with it dreams.
Sweet, golden ones
To fill my empty thoughts
With the warmth of you.
Exploring the ending/beginning of relationships, where all those emotions make it hard to sleep, but to sleep is to dream and they can be mostly pleasant. But perhaps it's the fear of the unpleasant that really keeps us from the bed.
