"insomnious" poems
His mind was a very dark place with very thin, occasional streaks of light,
when he managed to think about a future.
It was knots and swirls;
his mind was twistingly bittersweet,
and his smile was too.
He is not perfect and even as much love as my eyes held whenever I looked at him,
I knew this perfectly;
then again,
I'm not perfect either.
The truest person you could meet,
not an ounce hypocritical.
Knew his tricks,
paths, ways and corners of life,
had this talent to get to the darkest corners of your brain without you being aware of the intrusion.
I knew my mind did not have an easy entry,
but with him...
I felt vulnerable,
there was no lock in this universe that would click closed if he were the one to be opening the gates,
let's not talk about my heart.
He's a person you love endlessly or hate passionately,
Could be your best friend or your worse enemy,
could even make you love and hate him at the same time-
but there is no color grey with him.
He was a control freak that couldn't be controlled.
Responsible for a lot of poetry and well-arranged words,
metaphors and similes,
analogies and paradoxes.
He is not forgotten easily,
I also know this perfectly.
His mind is addicting,
his heart is addicting,
his smile is addicting,
he's addicting.
And I was and still am insomnious.
My happiness should not depend on another being,
especially one so dark and emotionally unreliable at times,
someone so reckless yet thoughtful.
I am incredibly guilty.
But then again,
the heart never listens to the brain.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 3:39 AM UTC
You said you needed space once again, so I stepped aside and you put me back in your shelf.
I waited weeks and months to be taken out, but, "give me another week," you said.
And so I waited and I waited, and I cried, and I missed you like crazy.
I was left insomnious.
Eventually, I found my way down, went through the door and you never heard of me again.
I had hoped you would come looking for me... but you never did.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision
Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition
Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams
Lacking mobility and projection
Inertia writhes
I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue
To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes
Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness
Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness
Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap
Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends
I want to be pristine
I beg thee to teach and galvanize me
Endowing me with inexorable sight
Keeping me keen and full of bold might
I am willing to fight
Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas
No need to mention my frailties and anxieties
All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities
The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations
For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me
Like pink carnations
Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings
Stunting my contractions
It's completely and utterly exhausting
A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting
It may sound silly but everything is contradictory
It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission
Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression
Despairing and kept in solitary confinement
Suffering more than I'd like to profess
Distressing the matters that cave into my chest
An infiltration of insurmountable anguish
Abolished
Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation
Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation?
I crave cultivation
I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia
But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins
Smoke signals sending sirens
A constant affliction
It's all my own doing
Contingency pleading for nourishment
Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends
Tell that to our reflections
Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy
Causing us to introvert instead of projecting
Withholding both you and I from mastery
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
A dream from which you cannot wake
Is not a dream at all
It’s but a delusion, a dreary fake
A dream from which you cannot wake
Caught within a breath you cannot take
A pitless, thus listless fall
A dream from which you cannot wake
Is not a dream at all
This nightmare of vacant reflection
Carved from calloused eyes
Peering and leering in insomnious inspection
This nightmare of vacant reflection
Is but hollowed slumber, yet an insidious infection
Neither resting nor rousing this wakeful guise
This nightmare of vacant reflection
Carved from calloused eyes
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 2:19 PM UTC
Dreary days drip into endless, sleepless nights.
Gazing out the window counting cars,
Counting seconds minutes hours.
The moon rises.
The moon sets.
I do not.
The sun rises.
I am still risen, lying down is too hard,
Too much work to finally rest.
There is no rest for the weary.
So many days have passed and
I am involuntarily awake.
The pillow disgusts me and
The dark terrifies me.
The walls close in, I cannot
Avoid the stares of the stars
Watching, waiting,
How I long for the days of napping,
Of sleeping when I wanted to,
Needed to.
How I wish I could fall asleep
With ease again.
The ease has gone from my life.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
Words are my inspiration.
Emotions are what fuels me
To put my heart on paper.
Reading helps me realise.
What life really means to me.
And when in times of stress
I take a step back from reality.
And breathe.
I sense the stirring
of my murmuring heartbeat.
My mind is wired and restless.
For many thoughts and emotions
Continuously collide within myself.
My only release
to cease my insomnious mind.
Is to set them free
Even if it means to carve away sleep.
Hoping in the end
That nothing will be left inside of me.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 9:42 PM UTC