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I've had all day to work.
Yet I procrastinate until the next–

Until 3:30am.

At 3:30 I'm so exhausted,
I don't even feel alive anymore.

It feels unreal.

A dream.

I haven't eaten for seven hours.
I fear that going to the kitchen to fill myself
Will awaken the family

Out of their gentle sleep,
And into my reality:
Hell.

My task gives me so much anxiety.
Fear.
It's dreadful.
Unbearable.

I put it off.
Until 3:30am.
I don't think about it.
I rid it from my mind.
Until 3:30 am.
larajill Jan 2019
but the truth is nobody really cares
i could die today
nobody would shed tears
sadness goes on from day-to-day

the world is a scam
everything is so fake
nobody gives a ****
i just want a break
this is really bad i‘m sorry
Another poem leaks out of my eye,
Why tonight, I cry?
No matter how hard I fight,
It still rolls down my cheek tonight,
Forcing my ink to write,
Poetry disguised in the form of tears,
Now on paper as a charcoal's smear,
They travel from within my heart,
They gush out and up breaking it all apart,
Then they make it up to my eye,
From my lid's they drip,
Forming into ink from my finger's tip,
What happened to gravity?
Another night's catastrophe.
                                        ~ VenJencie (01/26/18)
So many night's unable to sleep. Then thoughts come alive so I write. I am brand new on this site. Any suggestions or tips appreciated. Thank you.
Alvira Perdita Jan 2017
i want to crawl out of my skin,
out of my body,
and leave it all behind.

farewell to the flaws,
to the walls,
that have kept me so confined.
3 a.m. thoughts.

— The End —