I stay silent; say no words
As I lie on my bed, just thinking.
I stay silent; feeling the cold
It's 4:45 am but still breathing

The night seems to be passive;
I felt nothing but curious.
I tried to be expressive;
Still, nothing comes out but slumberous.

If winter could come sooner, I would be okay
I want wake up in he morning longing to stay warm in bed.
Drinking hot chocolate watching the sun rise.
Reading late into the night.
Baking cookies, with a scent that fills the room.
Watching the snowflakes fall onto the eyelashes of children.
As they cavort in the town singing carols of joy and happiness.
It is all I long for.
Oh winter, come sooner.

Eyes heavy
Mind dull
Body weary
Weak sure

Bed comfy
Pillow fluffy
Sleep now
Good... zzzz.

Quiet mornings,
Eyes glued shut
Warm things wrapping your legs
And body
Cocooned In heaven
And also
Late for work

I tried music
Squeezing my head dry of emotion
I tried drawing
Scratching out an imperfect form through the window
I tried to read, but
There were no pages I could turn.

So, I sat back,
And crossed my legs,
Leant my head back on
My hoodie-pillow
The sleepy sunlight fell and
Tumbled through the dust pane
A smile on its face.

All faces forward
And all mouths shut
The meditative silence
Propped up by the hum

And for a moment
If only for two
We might all sit back and
Live in two times of space between
The fretful embark and the doughy step-off

The bus.

I'm not sure if I'm tired or wide awake
but I know for a ******* fact that if
I see one more black thing
dart from point A to point B
out of the corner of my eyes-
I'm switching rooms tomorrow night,
I'm sick of waking up paralyzed
from drunken dreams that force me
to think of him and wonder why
I can't be wrapped up in his arms.

To feel the shame of another day?
To ask yourself if it was really worth it?
What did I do wrong this time?
I cant feel my own pulse..
Am I still alive?
Should I say I'm sorry?
But for what?
The demons that fill my mind?
They weren't the ones who made me do it.
My wrist throbs, time after time again..
Begging for the bite of a blade.
I promise again and again that I wont...
This time a different story..
I feel my pulse for the first time it seems.
Now do I truly know the sweet relief of death..

I tire of being awake
Yet my eyes refuse to stay shut
We fight constantly but they won't break
Bloodshot and squinty all for what
They won't let me sleep
So I lay here staring at nothing
Looking like I'm about to weep

Go to bed little child your days have come
To be the adult you’ve wanted to be since you were young
Didn’t mama tell you that your hair is a mess?
Maybe that it why she never got you that dress
Anyways young child please go home
You need to sleep. Your days have come.