behind what digit does greatness hide
for surely it is seen in mass
though mark it bold if self-proclaimed
a self-called victory is oft for last

and on what pedestal is greatness praised
enshrined and head bestowed with gold
or is it meek and humbly bred
unrecognized beneath the fold

in the sea's unwavering crash
in the sky's expanse unspared
in the ant's resilient march
all things great when uncompared

and can it be that we are great
perhaps in just one other's eyes
I know that I am full of it
why do you hide in plain disguise

I wanna punch a hole in a hole
make the blackest black
crawl inside
   and sleep

this
     is not insomnia
        this is lust
   twisted into the most frustrating knot
             and dawned with the ugliest bow

lying in bed
I swear I can hear the ceiling crack
it is mocking me
   incessant cackling
        I wanna tear this ******* room apart
crumple walls and bury them beneath buckling kness

I cannot stay still
it's like I've been touched
   and left to dry
aroused
   then left to die

        this is no way to end

my bones are starving hyenas
the bed, a watering hole
there is a slumbering carcass next to me
its flies
   buzz tidings of sheep-filled fields
     ~utopias of sleep~

but I
   am surrounded by night
no stars               no sheep               no sleep
only silence
   but not dark enough
this hole is not dark enough

someone punch a hole in me
I need to get some sleep