i used to cry when nights were long.
when insomnia creeps in, everything feels wrong;
but honey, now that you're mine to keep,
my dopamine's too high - i can't even sleep.

but no, i don't shed tears anymore.
instead, i savor your smile and the rizz that you pour.
in still nights, i count our blissful memories;
the peace you bring means a lot to me.

i used to cry when i couldn't sleep.
now, i have become too happy to weep.

Ω

I do not know sleep.
Captured by unholy night,
suffering Stockholm.

when not the monsters under my bed
Make me have sleeples nights
But my own mind
Making me have a hard time

Forcing me to rhyme
And is torturing me in my own mind

Wishing upon my downfall
While making me cry
With the long ago scense
From my previous life

But who is it
that torments me in those lonely night?
Is it the night
who wakes me up
Or is it me,
who won't let my running thoughts cry?

Though I'm not in jail it all just feels the same
Waking up depressed told just not to complain
A shotgun to my head i feel like Curt Cobain
Not a literal sense, but the context sustains
I don't want money, success, not even some fame
I just want to learn to play this game
Each day it gets hard i just keep  breathing
Wondering how the **** this happened, it feels like treason
From a comical skeptic to a reliable source
I question the water that was gave to the horse
Viewed as a sinner but always in doubt
"Read from the scripture and figure it out"
Nightmares keeping me awake like a proxy
SO many bad thoughts I wish I could get off me
Do your 12 steps Bob, everything is kosher
Yet I wake every night screaming still sober
A stranger does the same, and everyone wants to know her
A technicality set, a glimpse for closure
Different from most but related to some
I feel alone but second to none
Shaking again always be the **** up
"drinkings a sin" Always press my luck up
Some things I will never understand
But if it doesn't change I will be ******

As dawn's fog yawns
exhausted jaws call upon
tomorrows and beyond.

Pondering somnolent solitude's
honest and solemn qualms,
the calm before
ancient eons old atomic bomb;
clouds becoming bells of bronze,
air a balmy sauna,
strands of photon blonde
don tree awnings
and lush bladed lawns
strong enough to rouse flora,
fauna frolicking along,
faults and all their wrongs;
summer sunrise,
curtains, drapes are drawn,
phenomenon a drama
of God's pawns,
audience applause
the crawling pulse
of this cosmic throng.

But chronology's period
more like a comma, pause,
as falling autumns quick bygone,
then a wave of frigid wand
and winter's frostbitten trauma haunts;
maudlin waters frozen wanton,
fossilized to icy ponds,
ossified swans mourn silenced songs
their unspoken sonnets
for want of
warm renaissance.

how loudly
that clock ticks
when all you want
is ******* sleep