Round three o’clock,
I’ll roll over— wide-eyed and violent,
Tummy to the bed;
Leaning on my elbows, thoughts racin’ through my head
Like I never slept at all.
I’ll look around, searching for something
In the empty night; in the empty bed,
Anything that’ll keep me free from my head, but
I won’t find it— just my half-eaten dreams. And me:
Hungry cannibal,
Watching in despair
As they shiver and dissolve, like whispers in the air—
But they’ll come around again; they know me well.
All too soon I’ll step out
From the empty bed
Where the monster sleeps, and I scramble at threads
That shiver and dissolve in the empty night
Where morning hides. But that’s alright;
I’ve come to love them, the frost and the stars—
Perhaps like me, they’ve got lonely hearts.
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
Round three o’clock,
I’ll roll over— wide-eyed and violent,
Tummy to the bed;
Leaning on my elbows, thoughts racin’ through my head
Like I never slept at all.
I’ll look around, searching for something
In the empty night; in the empty bed,
Anything that’ll keep me free from my head, but
I won’t find it— just my half-eaten dreams. And me:
Hungry cannibal,
Watching in despair
As they shiver and dissolve, like whispers in the air—
But they’ll come around again; they know me well.
All too soon I’ll step out
From the empty bed
Where the monster sleeps, and I scramble at threads
That shiver and dissolve in the empty night
Where morning hides. But that’s alright;
I’ve come to love them, the frost and the stars—
Perhaps like me, they’ve got lonely hearts.