Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
دema flutter May 2014
Those days,
in the mornings,
I stay longer in bed.

Just gazing ,at the ceiling,
Trying to , forget
Those nights.
;I'm unable to dream.

Just over thinking,
to the point,  I fail to
silence my thoughts,
and
my eyelids are denying sleep.

Those times,
I feel
extraneously not exisiting,
I stand still , watching everything,
fall into place, nor fall apart
unaware* that time is still going,
and I'm just s t u c k.

in; This world,
I have gone underestimated.
Told I should go in others' path.

That my faith isn't good enough,
that I am too weak, too weak,                                                     @DemaaMu
that for my own sake,
I should listen, to their commands.

But I can never go any other way than the path I am destined to go on .

So I just lay in bed;
sick of pretending, someone I am not,
sick of people changing my identity,        

And in this life, in this world in those times in those days and nights,
I have gone, **unknown.
Nick Durbin Sep 2012
Another hollow night of meaningless time spent trying to accumulate hours of sleep...
The clock seems stagnant during those minutes when I close my brain to escape the world
                                                                                                                              articulated before my eyes -
A world written in such a manner...
                that perfect poetry blemishes the manifestation I lay before thee...
          This perfect beauty... relevant seemingly only in the realms of language...
                             Tainting something lost adrift -
    Something so pertinent...            so... potent...  but lost...              lost adrift somewhere...
Only to be confined by our fabricated gratification of the meaning amidst the letters b e a u t y... Still resolved extraneously somewhere...
                                                                                      Somewhere lost adrift...

— The End —