Dark of night surrounds me, pillow below my head.
How long the many hours since I tumbled onto my bed?

Mind so filled with thought that clearly has me stressed.
Racing, scattered thought that just wont let me rest.

Blanket that feels loose and shifts to feel oh so tight,
and so it sets the pattern for this never ending night.

I know that I must sleep before the rise again of the sun,
in a world that cant relent from insistence things must be done.

My body urgent in its craving to be silent and be still,
but my mind just wont give in possessing the stronger will.

A discomfort on my left side, so I roll again to my right.
Countless repetition through the hours of a god forsaken night.

Nothing that I do brings a sense my mind is nearing calm,
I must try to get some sleep before clock sounds its alarm.

So the hours go, too many hours surely for just one night,
but too late now to rest as window reveals dawns early light.

From within my
Glass house
I keep a pillow
Full of stones
To lay my
Weary head
A chest full of
Bricks
To build my bed
And a cabinet
Full of molotovs
In case I need
A drink

Who cares if they watch our love?
— Fact they rather'd see:
It matters not in this cove,
In this sprawl of love and sweep:

Re-lose those eyes in this rime,
Then folds will lay and swap:
Then pink and red would stain our skin,
And fight we would to stay on top:

And whites of eyes will sil'ly appear,
Too busy we are enveloped in we:
In all this thing of our love,
Of kiss, and rush, and kiss, and flee.

Even,
nothing is more important
instead of dropping the body on the bed
just to know yourself
with dreams too high.

Like dead leaves,
and shadows,
and all the things we find each other
in our heads.

A little light and pretend to forget.
A little disappointed, still not gone.
Then stare into nothingness,
and remember you
for every eternity.

What we need
just a swarm of explosions
which is enough for us to always measure
and then compare.

It turns out
words just to be taught,
then propped up
until death.
Fall.
Then we hug again.

I want to keep a pair of your shoes;
(not just any pair of shoes)
But ones that you've walked in,
shoes that have ***** laces and have tumbled in dirt-
Because when I' am old and you shall not be here;
as I lay in my bed once again alone-Your shoes will
always be there-
to remind me of the journey's-
you walked in throughout your life and ours.
We are the soul, which is underneath the foot,
as we plant our bases at every stem-
By having your shoes;
they can be entwined with mine.
As a peace offering, that we've walked life together,
and those memories can go on rewind.

It's so good
to get out
of my bed
to not sink
into the deep
comforting covers
that left me
lethargic and unbottherd.

Now that out
of my bed
enjoying the things
that I should
or maybe did
because if I
don't I could've
been sleeping for
the entire day
or reading depressing
poems as my
emotions leave me
in such disarray.