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I have never been able to sleep.
Everything toys with me as
my mind wonder into the deep
The clock on the wall
Criticizing my need for momentary peace.
When will I ever be released?
Imagination very active and all is alive.
In my waking moments, I am groggy I strive
only for the feel and desire to survive.
Before, I close my eyes with the sister of death.
Possibilities of the unknown is where it all thrives
My thoughts depart from time to time.
Countdown of spiraling minutes
I'm losing my will to eat and the need to rest.
Shifting away from friends & from all that is left

Wyatt Jun 29
Tossing and turning,
my body and my heart.
Restless, I remember
everything I thought I forgot.
I count sheep for hours,
there must be a million of them.
It's past midnight
and I can't get any rest.
My Dear Poet May 21
I’m hopping along a road
that trips me over
I’m climbing up a tree
that pulls me down
I’m far across a field
that draws me closer
and still nearer
to not being found
caroline Mar 24
the gentle reminders of my fears
sing me to sleep
“what could go wrong?”
“will i wake?”
their ever-dreadful lullaby
lulling me to slumber
a grandfather clock
a stopwatch
tick tick ticking
til all fades away
Alicia Moore Mar 16
I do not yearn for love.
Not romance, nor friendship.
I struggle in this passive isolation
yet I do not seem to yearn.

I am empty in that context.
Never feeling full, nor have I ever before.
I claw and cut and scream for simple peace
yet I seem to be punished with restlessness.

Maybe the peace is found within
regaining a sense of yearning.
Maybe the peace is only found within
the final ‘death’ do us part.
For so long I've been sheltered
Trapped behind this wall
How can I be anything
If you never let me fall
Do I like being here?
No, not at all
My spirits died within me
And all I can do is crawl

-AJT
Restless to know
if she would reciprocate,
for tomorrow I can’t wait.
A smile, a suggestive glance, even a blush
will keep me going
in this city of mush.

Officious night ,
obstacle to day
slumber away to make way.
Tony Tweedy Dec 2021
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.
Oh too many nights like this....
s y kalindara Nov 2021
A string of unrequited loves
invade my mind amid restless sleep,
four AM dreams under starless skies occupied by
pretty schoolgirls with rosy cheeks.
Seven years flowed under the bridge,
yet one of the many unspoken faces stands out
uncloaked in the mist of corridors and the early stir
of shuffling feet and uniform skirts,
my breath catches in my throat as I think of her.

I think back to our interlacement inside those four solid walls,
how I had met you through gossiping whispers and scribbles on bathroom stalls,
our paths had crossed in late winters and spring,
but those summer conversations changed everything.

By now the details are coated in dust,
but I remember the shifting air around us
wrapping me in enchantment,
and I knew I hadn't known euphoria
until I'd tasted my name on your tongue,
and I've only ever been sober
but the sound of your voice could get me drunk.

You wore a shell unlike whatever held your notoriety
and I never saw it coming, like an English storm brewing,
getting caught in the middle of it all until
it became this game of counting midnights, pacing, waiting
for the day our fingerprints stamped the same staircase railing.

I'll bet my eyes that your deathless beauty is just as haunting
as it was when I looked up at your raven hair against jasmine skin
and eyes rimmed with shadows that got me thinking
how close can our skin skim before it gets too intimate?

Transposed to a time when
what made me float the most
were your glances,
brushing hands and
hugs between classes,
and all your excuses
for patching my bruises,
to wiping blue paint off the curves of your face
and suppressing the urge
to crop the space
between our flustered breaths and parting lips,
I'd still give anything to have that kiss.

These days, I recite your letters to my bedroom ceiling at every turn
and they echo back to me in harmonies, as sacred as scripture.
How do lost words in stale, stained ink still make me yearn, crash and burn
until I'm screaming to the sea before me that you slipped through my fingers?

In retrospect, I think it's fair if I called it love
and that's something I won't apologise for.
Perhaps someday, I could stand up with a hurdling heartbeat and tell you
that I loved you the way Emily loved Sue
in glistening pink, purple and blue.


Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Apparently the major crush I had on this girl I knew back in highschool wasn't a phase. I'm bisexual, which isn't as hard to admit now, but it was back then. I was 14/15/16 & growing up in a really religious & homophobic region & all these thoughts I had, felt so shameful to me. I'll still never admit them to her even though I think she felt the same way, it still feels way too risky to say. And my sexuality is something I keep hidden when I'm back home but I feel comfortable sharing it online & in poems, so thank you for reading this if you've gotten this far. **


(P.S. you can follow me on instagram, if you'd like to @sykmusings ♡)
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