Oh sleepless night, why are your eyes red? Oh sleepless night, why do you gasp every time you close your eyes? Oh sleepless night, why are you paranoid? Oh sleepless night, oh sleepless night has all the sheep died, because you only see a fence without sheep to count? Oh sleepless night, do you want to talk about it? Oh sleepless night, why do you talk to yourself, have you finally lost it? Oh sleepless night, I think you have and I think I know why! Oh sleepless night, we are one, so really I'm just asking myself these questions. Oh sleepless night, was it because I heard my dad beating my mom? Oh sleepless night is it because I had a baby sitter that sexually assaulted me? Oh sleepless night, is it because after the baby sitter was asleep I killed him? Oh sleepless night,  Oh sleepless night, is it because I get bullied at school? Oh sleepless night, what do I have in my hand right now? Oh sleepless night, I tell you the truth I'm done with you. Oh sleepless night, Oh sleepless night, all it would take is a simple click...click...Boom!!!

Sleepless eyes wide awake
During a sleepless night
Tossing and turning
The bed is so uninviting
Not allowing my soul to rest
Listening to the dark lull
Turmoil in the mind
In retrospective mode
So many incidents come alive
Darkness giving me clarity
Of my experiences
Trying to decipher the past
Imaginary solutions
For episodes from my past
Time travel, visiting in reminiscence
Not sure whether I am happy or sad
More of a neutral state of mind
Sleepless night engaging me
In a futile attempt to resolve
Only memories can visit the past
Time, has long ago taken me miles ahead
My sleepless night indulging
In hallucinating my mind
Ramblings of a sleepless soul
From the experiences of sleepless night

sleepless nights
sleepless night
sleepless nigh
sleepless nig
sleepless ni
sleepless n
sleepless
sleeples
sleeple
sleepl
sleep
slee
sle
sl
s
sl
sle
sl­ee
sleep
sleepi
sleepin
sleeping
sleeping a
sleeping al
sleeping alo
sleeping alon
sleeping alone
sleeping alone.

2 AM and I lie awake,
thinking as the time goes by,
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I dream of ghosts and wake-up screaming,
tears in my eyes
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I want to go in dreamless slumber,
when will I get that I wonder
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I have my troubles and my mind a rubble,
and at 2 AM I lie awake,
thinking as the time goes by,
yet another wakeful sleepless night.

One sleepless boy
Falling to the deepest of the ocean
Looking for himself in the ocean waves
Little boy, it was just a dream

One sleepless boy
Running through an unending maze
Walking through an unending road
Little boy, it was just a dream

One sleepless boy
He is running through a neverending dream
A beautiful and horrifying dream of a one sleepless boy

-Inspired by a girl named Jessica-

Oh sleepless night
What a trick on me you play!
For the reason I cannot sleep
Is because I anticipate the day

We build our day up
To have it elapse at night
But how too often a time I experience
A continuance through the night

Oh how unfair to me you see
For nighttime is a break much overlooked
Because I walk through the day quite sleepily
Which is difficult in a day so overbooked

Sleeping figures
Rejuvenating minds
Your mind is cultivating in peace
While my face is forming lines

Oh how I wish I didn’t get so worked up
I expected this to happen
Which ironically is the reason
My tiredness has been dampened

I lay in bed, ready
Ready to try this out
A pleasant sleep is all I wanted
Without completely passing out

How I get so jealous when
You lay there and drift to rest
While I’m dealing with two polar issues--
Either abruptly collapse into sleep or else from it slowly digress

Oh sleepless night, you tease me so
You fool with me and upset me so
For when thinking of tomorrow I surely know
I’m not going to be as lively as my potential.

It’s like I’m a hobo on Fifth Ave
Looking at the rich not realizing what they have
I get excited over spare change
While you collect your pay checks again and again

So let’s face it, tomorrow I’ll be miserable
And I’ll look forward to when the clock strikes night
But then the hours I have will become considerable
So I’ll lay there restlessly and drift away just before the light.
So I’ll get a taste of what sleeps like
But I’ll never get to experience it right.
Oh you cruel, mean sleepless night!
Where dwells your brother so known as the “Goodnight”?

Far away on tides of blue,
father still then havens of gray.
Stretching across those wondrous fields
farther still then the breaking day.
Reaching fourth strands of hope,
grasping for life in the depths.

A light appears in the mire,
a hope filled with deepest desire.
The eminence of this light priceless
the glory of its beauty,
eternal.

The stars gleam
the darkness beams,
the heavens soar
and the moon drifts and dreams.

The night is alive
under this sleepless light,
stars shift and sway.
To the beat of its reflecting gleam,
the galaxies drift away, away.

The wolf cries mournfully
to it's long lost love.
The moon in return
shines all the brighter.

The heavens rejoice
for the light is theirs,
the songs of the deep
rising higher and higher.
The night is alive
under the sleepless light,
The stars arrayed in all their splendor.

The night is alive with color and life
Love and peace,
beauty and such magnificence.

When the sleepless lights
shines ever bright,
the darkness fades
and the night comes alive.

It's time to enter a sleepless mind
The cogs and wheels spin and grind
I hear the whistles and the chimes

My head racing faster than a v8
Thoughts are larger than a U.S state
For my sleep I am ever so late

Clocks in my head, tick tocking
Side to side my head rocking
Chains pulling of the ship docking

Inside a war is going
Bullets and missiles a throwing
Explosions is all, lost for all knowing

Eternity lost in void of thought
Reminiscing on all I was taught
Consistent darkness you haunt

A sleepless mind is what I see
It is all I know how to be
So if don't you mind, come join me

Dark drapes fall on both sides

Heavy with the drought of sleepless nights

When the moon shone but did not shine

Through the windows that are stained to this day

I'd try rubbing the grit away

But the grains of sand have found their home

As have the lead in my heavy heart.

I can’t sleep at night
I’ve got elements I’m facing
And in my dreams I need it most to see this vision that I’m chasing
And if I wander deeper against this grain
Will I split this earth in two,
Maybe I was born in cycle, maybe I am recycled youth
Still
I can’t sleep at night
That’s when the lost come knocking
Sleep is what is needed most
A rest from a view that I am blocking
Resist the temptation to be tired
Because it comes and goes throughout the day -
Sleepless nights, up late wondering when I will stop standing in my own way
But still
Sleepless nights
I can’t sleep
Sleepless nights
Set me free
Sleepless nights
Lie a-wake
Sleepless nights
Stand in my-way
And tomorrow is here but for the moment so I get up to live the day
Another round of forgotten souls harvest the moon’s decay
And these sleepless night keep me from seeing a life from a brighter point of view-
I can’t sleep at night
So the next day is never new.
~Bre Womble

I slept
Horribly

Ironically
The two nights

I couldn't
Hear your voice

My tossing
My turning

Keeps me up
Because my soul

Feels alone
Without you

And not even
I can sleep

Not even me
Who sleeps endlessly

Can sleep even a night
Without hearing your
Sweet words
And whispered nothings.

first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic

2

when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness

3

he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go

4

he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go

2

she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings

2

i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away

3

she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico

4

the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths

5

she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******

2

her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall

3

she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie

4

tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it

2

she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide

Can't put my mind to rest, it's another sleepless night.
My eye's are wide open, and it seems a constant fight.
I lay here in thought, about my long boring day.
Daydreaming of tomorrow, and the bills I must pay.

I toss and I turn, trying to find comfort in this bed.
Punching my pillows, so I can have a place for my head.
After a few minutes, the cycle must again repeat.
Then there is an itching sensation, that begins in my feet.

After laying here for an hour, and going through this charade.
I get up and go to the refrigerator, for a midnight raid.
Now that I have a full stomach, maybe I'll have better luck.
But another hour passes, and this is really beginning to ****.

It's running close to two o'clock, and my eye's have yet to close.
Then there is another itch, except this time it's my nose.
My eyes begin to get heavy, and I'm hoping I will sleep.
And then I hear my alarm clock, beep, beep, beep.

By now it's four o'clock, and I still haven't slept a wink.
My eyes hurt so much now, they hurt to even blink.
I drag myself out of bed, so I can move forward with my day.
And hope that I will sleep tonight, or there will be hell to pay.

I can’t sleep.
An endless wandering
piano strain
caught between
broken
finger
bones.

She lays
her head
against his
chest
listening
as
ships
sail
across his
heavy heart.

A sad
mourning
wail
of
wind
echoes
in
each breath
he takes.

I hope
that
soon
death will
come
like
hundreds
of arrows
in
the night.
Each aflame
with the
lies
and conceit
of  the
human race.

Only then
will I slumber
content
beneath
the skies
of
moons
and stars.
Glistening in
continuum
with the chorus
of
small voices
and the movements
of the
universe.

A haunting
twisting
melody
that
reminds
us of memories
and their purpose
of nostalgia.
The notes
that
urge
us to go
on.
To hope
when hope
is gone.

Because I can’t
sleep,
I dream
of brokenness
and hopelessness.
A darkness
darker than
the night
disturbs
my unseen
eyes
and billows
beneath my
hair.

I look to them
both,
standing
so close to
the edge,
and I pray
like sweet honey
that
drips from
cultured
lips,
I pray for
them both,

The girl and the boy who haunt my sleepless nights.

I watch
as they
peril
in
my demise,
slowly
my brain
rots away
and
my limbs
deteriorate.

They have
nothing
left
of me.
Only
a fleeting
idea
that nags
at their
consciousness
each footfall
bringing
them farther
from my
soul
and closer to
their empty
air.

It was
like
they too
never existed,
as both
fall
to the
violin
that soundtracks
their never-ending
sorrow.

The girl and the boy who haunt my sleepless nights.

Now we
both
will
slumber
forever
beneath
the moons
and
the
stars
for
eternity
forever
content,
unsatisfied,
restless.

A clock ticks time by tirelessly
Gears winding like twines of string
With quaint clicking quickly quieting
Until finally time stands still

Broken glass of a smooth clock face
Gears halting in deformity
Glistening shards like the sands of time
Ceasing in their downward flight

A once beating ticking heart of life
Now is lost within a sleepless night
Once a momentum to continued light
Now falls to the ringing silence's might

Time broken into shattered deaths
Until there is simply nothing left

I lie awake remembering, wishing I could sleep to forget.

Late night conversations about sweet nothings,
I feel as though he is just -something,
Something so goofy and unique,
I smile from ear to ear as he speaks,
I stay up almost the entire night and day,
It would be easier if he were to be next to me and stay,
He says we practically read each others' minds -telepathy,
I can go on and on about his sympathy,
We make funny faces all the time,
He is what I call  -a dime,
Not a dime's worth nor it's size,
It's quirkiness and shine,
And to end this poem is hard - just in a few lines,
His eyes and smile fill the room with light,
There is not one thing I regret from these,
*-These sleepless nights.

When I'm laying awake in bed on a sleepless night,
I often think of you.
I think of the way you laughed
The way you cried on the phone with me.
The way when you kissed me while you were smiling.
The way you sighed.
The way you chuckled softly and brushed off a compliment.
But most of all,
I think of the way you made everything I was doing seem better when you were around.

If I could have your arms tonight—
But half the world and the broken sea
Lie between you and me.

The autumn rain reverberates in the courtyard,
Beating all night against the barren stone,
The sound of useless rain in the desolate courtyard
Makes me more alone.

If you were here, if you were only here—
My blood cries out to you all night in vain
As sleepless as the rain.

the hollows under her eyes
got deeper
as invisible hands
scraped further.

It's an anxiety attack waiting to happen when I can't think of a witty way to say something unoriginal; something that everyone has heard before, but that just now occurred to me to say. I can feel my thoughts racing, my heartbeat speeding up to pump blood to my overreacting brain that's now thinking, "How the **** am I gonna get these feelings out, now?" I can't think of a cunning way to use a metaphor--one that I need to be able to put this pen to the page and call all these thoughts in my head poetry.
What is the meaning of poetry? I feel like I should have some kind of figurative language in here, but my brain is fried. I'm too numb to process a **** thing. I'm so numb that it physically hurts and that pain is all that I can feel. That and the burning of my eyes from lack of sleep. This isn't poetry. I don't know what this is--random words strung together by a writer who's falling asleep at the page, who doesn't even know what sense is at this point. It's a rant...it's a ramble. Sleepless ramble