Panic
Do not
Panic
I am full of it
Sick of it
Panic
My brain weary
A fear stills me
Panic
For tomorrow
Might not come for me

I am nothing
I feel it feeding
Off of the silence surrounding me
Panic
I tell myself over and over and over-

It deafens me,
Ringing constantly
It is always within
An incredible sense of
Panic
I dread that it will never leave
A friend that I will never meet
To ask if it can ever be
More than just
Panic

It's too late for the sun to save her
Her skin cracks as the cold invades
It sets in,
The unwanted guests of the night

Ah
it's cold
and I have a hard time
holding this pen
like I used to

So
I unfold
I'm convinced of my crime
hiding in my den
like I'm used to

And I've been holding on
dreaming, fading,
tired for so long
I remember your voice
Can I ever hold you
can I ever have the choice
I'm not used to

Why is it being so ******* me
how am I always wrong
when the voices tell me I'm free
but really all I want is to belong
Anything could be better
Nothing is the matter

It's alright
go back to sleep
it's just another lonely night
I'll feel better after I weep
til tomorrow
another gloom
wraps me in trivial sorrow,
For you I'll go catch the moon
your blanket looks warm, just tonight, can I borrow
If you don't need me, I promise I'll leave soon
I'm used to

Dark.
Quiet, quite.
The fan blows cool air on my skin.
Cats yowl nearby, the shuffling of cat litter
Makes sounds like oceans waves,
or so thought Mr Crick.

This is the witching hour.
310 and the mind starts to wonder,
Screens flicker, thoughts bicker.
314 and other transcendental numbers,
Infinites and clocks and super-tasks.
315 and the demons rise from the red room
Existing only in minds and movies.

Surely this is nearing the time that
I last rose from slumber
All those nights ago and begged for forgiveness
Metres from sleeping bodies?
Did I see it then?
Do I trust them?

I wonder still.
The chromosome lights
Flash like neon signs
Briefly spelling out notes
With no context or chronology.
Cats, Pi, oceans, light, ***, but only in passing.
Every seven seconds is surely impossible.
Pink elephants she told me not to think about.

So random. No context.
Nonsense without meter or rhyme.
Is it the point? Maybe.
It doesn't to anybody except me.
And when I die I will take all meaning
And leave none
For you will have to make your own
Like everybody else.
Like I did.

Are we alone?

Tired of using the eraser
More than this pencil
And coffee to stimulate myself
Wanting to bring something into existence
At the Devil’s hour
Here I am
Insomniac
Surrounded by my own thoughts
Resonating through the cacophony of nothingness
With open eyes
No sign of sleep
I must finish this work
I must finish creating
Something
Anything
Perhaps it’s imperfect
I don’t care
Just need something to fall into
A dream to live ; to cure my sleeplessness
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Done at last
Looks weird but will do for now
Let’s see where tonight’s dream takes me
Let me close these eyes in dark
Let me open my being to a new light
.
.
.
.
Where am I ?
Who brought me here ?

As you learn to correct mistakes
Pain humbles so you can grow
Eyes will cry, hands will bleed
You will appreciate it later though.

The stony paths you walked
Regret that haunts your brain
Sleepless nights, thoughts left unsaid
Are the pieces falling into place.