My mind wants to sleep,
But my body stays awake.
I'm starting to wonder
If my body's a *******
Because all it does is ache

nah, there’s nothing on my mind
except maybe,
the demons i constantly fight
yeah, they’re in there alright

who ever said
‘out of sight, out of mind’
just probably couldn’t see them

tired eyes
drinking a
cold
glass of water

sad eyes
drinking a
hot
cup of coffee

broken eyes
drinking
nothing
at all

Little lily buds look at the sun
they smile and bloom
the morning begins so beautiful.

I worry about yesterday and tomorrow
keep missing out on now.

The more I see,
less I want to say
no longer want to stay.

The days get hotter and hotter
this budding cruel summer
I cannot enjoy the simple flowers
this bed has become my world.

I am tired when I sleep
fatigued awake
I need fresh oxygen to breathe
I've become living bone
all alone.

breeze and distant
traffic whisper,
smells like lavender,
words get scrawlier,
head full of coffee and dreams of
green.
it’s just another day, sky’s blue,
sleep’s on my mind;
all i see is concrete.
it’s noon.
how is it noon?

I'm tired.
I'm tired of running towards
the same closed door every time.
You closed it
and I am unable to open it.
I tried
and it hurt.

I'm disheartened.
I'm disheartened from crashing against
the same huge wall every time.
You built it
and I am unable to climb it.
I tried
and it stung.

I'm sick.
I'm sick of racing after
the same fast car every time.
You drive it
and I am unable to catch up.
I tried
and it pained.

I'm sick and tired of trying,
of hurting
of the sting
of pain.
I'm sick and tired,
but I won't give up.

'Cause maybe one day
someone will open their door for me,
someone will help me climb their wall,
someone will stop and wait for me.
I won't give up.
Someone will.
Someday.

You call me bitter.

Yes, I am bitter.

Why wouldn’t I be?

The taste of your

failure on my tongue

burns from how you

taught us that our

creativity tastes of cough

syrup and fear and

that failure tastes of

our very own blood.


You call me restless.

Yes, I am restless.

How couldn’t I be?

I dance to the

exhaustive rhythm of discovering

that I identify with

test scores and not

by the rhythm that

stirred me from my

forceful and deafening education.