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in the streets there are
many people sleeping and
many scared to sleep
My head aches ,
I can't sleep,
Her thoughts never stop,
Imagining things that I should have said,
Things that I could still do , to get her back,

I want to give up trying,
I want to stop the pain,
Please someone look for my sleep,
I want to sleep like a baby,
I don't want to wake up ever again.
can't sleep at all , her thoughts are keeping me awake.
Amanda 10h
Hold the universe inside my palms
I alone understand it is but a solitary dream
Between stars I make out memories
Connecting dots, forming images ingrained in my mind

I look in the unfilled depths of sky where suns have yet to burn out, remaining eternally preserved in an explosion of beauty lightyears away wondering about humans peering at their ambience through time and space

This isolated reflection I witness change in compliance with the predetermined path set in motion by the astrological forces of nature
My hands must be trembling
Scared of sorrow and frustration they undeniably confront

The fear of the uncertain, the inconsistency of the unapologetic future awaiting
Solemn visions of an imperfect outcome, enough torment to push strength a bit too far over the edge

Fragile balance of peace and chaos resting within cupped desperate hands
Ignorant, the quickness of extinction among synapses in the cavern lighting the entirety of my skull
Pinned under familiar self-induced delusions
Galaxies silently begging for permanent freedom
Such fate to let their wishes dangle ignored
Urges within bursting, released
That moment I also give in
Forcefully close my fingers into a fist
Instantly crushing wild constellations scattered around my consciousness
A great deal more fragile than realized

Once unshakable destiny budged a millimeter by one lone act of rebellion
Against a powerful pull the majority pretend is rigid
Elusive control by way of self-combustion of life's temporary illusions
Proof one touch can fell worlds of fantasy

Founded on fiction

Or maybe

I was inspired by Horton Hears A Who
Where do we go when we're asleep?
Where do you go when I'm asleep?
Where do I go when you're asleep?
Are we asleep now?
Where ARE we?
Kids' questions are deep.
Sara Kellie Dec 2017
A subtle panic like a slow death creeps, the anxiety within me, for here's where it sleeps.
Quietly loud enough to cover the sound, of the glassware you've thrown, now strewn all around.
Rocking all positive lullaby's to sleep, ensuring all menacing thoughts I'm to keep.
It's adept like the teen who's stayed out beyond curfew, sneaks in armed with oceans with which it will drown you.
All because of the lies that were said, went in through your ears and lived in your head.
The life you once had held aloft like a prize, you breathe your last breath and then close your eyes.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Just feelings but I feel them.
I've tried endlessly to make a shift...
to rotate my breathing...
to let my eyes
and my heart steady: like honey
dripping from a spoon.
How sweet sleep would be...

Though for some reason,
the night must be more taken with me
than morning...
for it keeps me hostage during it's time;
confiding with me, tempting me to never
close my eyes again.
It tickles my bones with nightfall stimulants -
what a sleepless impression these chemicals have on me.
Awake in pain
My body in the midst
Of fight or flight
And I choose to fight
This crippling anxiety
That has caused me to flee
For years I’ve lost count of
Remembering my childhood
Crying incessantly
But never knowing why
My heart would not stop racing
Now I know the truth
But I must state
Awareness never makes this easier
Feeling the panic swell
Gripping my muscles
Flooding my brain
With unwelcomed memories
I believed I’d pushed past
Buried in the depths of my mind
Waiting for the moment
When my defenses were lowered
The minute I close my eyes to rest
The second I decided it was time
To shut off for the day
My stress picks up the signal
And shakes me loose
From my restful sleep
Alice 2d
There is something about the way the sunlight slants through the blinds, how my blanket
feels warm after a night hugging my body.
The way my sock-enmeshed toes stretch and my
arms reach out like wings then fold back in
to the warmth of my chest.
The way my feet pad across the oak floors
and my apple tastes as it crushes between my molars,
sweet and watery and fresh,
as though the flowers of on my windowsill have turned red
and the petals filled with nectar.
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