My mind is racing again
At 4:37 am
I wish my grades were as heightened
As my inability to sleep
I’ve been having nightmares
But they don’t scare me anymore
Sometimes
I find a comfort in knowing
That the monsters I’ve dreamt
Are a lot more pleasant than the monsters
I have left to dream
I don’t mind it
But I mind you
Only because you’re always on my
Mind
I pretend that I’m a solipsist ,
But I could have just made it up
Your love wasn't as real in my heart
(As it was in my head)
I am a shy little flower
Somewhere behind the trees
“There’s really no way to reach me”
But there is.
No one has taken the time to
Explore
I once met a girl
A traveler in that moment
She told me a story about her grandmother
Who was shipped to a boarding school in Germany right after WWII.
At the age of three
The first sentence she ever understood was:
"Everything is broken"
And she lived a whole life
With that silly little thought
Echoing.
Someday
I will find an ocean breeze
Worth calling my home
With sand as soft
As my tinder
Beating heart
Good night
Is a formulation of words
Whose meaning I am still
Unfamiliar with
As I walked along
Your art stricken walls
I wonder if I’ve ever really been capable
Of creating
But hardly ever do I strike an inspiration
I can call entirely my own
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
My mind is racing again
At 4:37 am
I wish my grades were as heightened
As my inability to sleep
I’ve been having nightmares
But they don’t scare me anymore
Sometimes
I find a comfort in knowing
That the monsters I’ve dreamt
Are a lot more pleasant than the monsters
I have left to dream
I don’t mind it
But I mind you
Only because you’re always on my
Mind
I pretend that I’m a solipsist ,
But I could have just made it up
Your love wasn't as real in my heart
(As it was in my head)
I am a shy little flower
Somewhere behind the trees
“There’s really no way to reach me”
But there is.
No one has taken the time to
Explore
I once met a girl
A traveler in that moment
She told me a story about her grandmother
Who was shipped to a boarding school in Germany right after WWII.
At the age of three
The first sentence she ever understood was:
"Everything is broken"
And she lived a whole life
With that silly little thought
Echoing.
Someday
I will find an ocean breeze
Worth calling my home
With sand as soft
As my tinder
Beating heart
Good night
Is a formulation of words
Whose meaning I am still
Unfamiliar with
As I walked along
Your art stricken walls
I wonder if I’ve ever really been capable
Of creating
But hardly ever do I strike an inspiration
I can call entirely my own
