Drunken,
startling,
stumbling
over thoughts
fleeting,
dendrites, meeting
intersections I forgot
I can’t, you
can’t too,
slumber takes you fast
my mouth moves
unorganized,
singing words that
never last
I wish I
could take back
the feeling I’ve
confessed
they were too
much for you
none in context of jest
so what do
I do now
when silence grows
too much
should I rest my
dreary eyes
and hope sleep comes
robust?
I rub my exhausted eyes
and remember the lack of hours
of dreaming
we’re weeping
at terrifying memories
from a moment
we’ve been stolen
our innocence, and no longer
gullible
'cause believing is
listening to what
really makes sense
and the terrifying
emotions you’ve evoked
and all pretense
is too much for one mind
to brush off with a wave
I cry to your sentiment
and will not sleep for days
Wrote this rather intoxicated.