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climbing out of bed and into my spirits' handsome remove
as the windows breach my solitude with all sunshine and an early mist
reclines like a cat made of jewels; i join the **** of my room with new feet
planted in yesterday's disarray, and a multitude of undone things.
i seek the fumes of my coffee. I scoff at the tattered robe i can't get off me-
for it's comfort is old and friendly, draped over my sleepy flesh...
adorned in lethargy and no small muse, i ***** at the giants that taught me just how the ocean is one tear
wept from a loving dream
that borrowed the eye of a storm
to cry havoc
over truth.

every wave, living proof

Of You.
Vanilla hangs in the air and dances,
Making itself at home,
Paint stains her skin and desires,
Bubbling with creativity, boiling over with dreams,
Dark demons cling to the corners,
She pushes them back, ignore, ignore,
Tingling with entrancements she trounces forwards,
Leaving her tortures in the depths,
Swishing swirls cover her page radiating a euphoric glow,
Does she paint the light to rebuke the dark?
Or does she simply wish to meld the two in a crossed road of idolized evil?
My stomach hurts rhythmically, my heart beats when it wants

I never sleep when I want to and I choose the stressful nights to try

My blood flows backwards,

I choke on my words, and my food, and your name, and the truth

I’m an inside out backwards ******* fool; I see both wheels going left when I’m not supposed to

I see your hate when I should see your love

I am my own hero and nemesis in a single comic strip

I trip on my feet, and swallow my tongue, I bite my finger until it goes numb

My ears don’t ring, they hiss

I’m not a lemon, I’m poison

I’m a mislabeled bottle of hazardous chemicals

I am something that should’ve been recalled
How can a hand I haven't held in so long feel more real than my own?
How can the flashing of blurry images made up of fears and desires draw out more emotion than entire days passed?
How can a voice you should never hear speak new words again contradict all logic?
You can’t call them dreams; you can’t call them nightmares.
They are a newly evolved breed of unreality.
Silhouettes, and gentle lines, represent an entire human.
An entire life conveyed in simple, thoughtless strokes.
How can they control me that much?
Galaxies separate us, but all that separates me from earth now,

Is my tightly wound, dizzy head,

And the dreaminess of my unused bed.

Staggering stars set me alight, I will not burn up, I will not allow.

The Milky Way’s haze has overtaken me, they say I belong, I disavow.

A Lunar Eclipse stole the mist that has been running through my veins, am I dead?

A Super Nova spoke with much pain, that I am alone now wrapped in their thread.

I weep shooting stars; they leave burns down my cheeks, all of space takes a slow bow.

Did somewhere along the way I forget how to sleep?

Am I lost in a land of unimaginable beauty and misery?

I used to be afraid of the dark night, but now I see that I was afraid of all unknown.

It’s just contrast, a vast sea of endless light, and the sleep I’ve lost that goes miles deep.

The clouds mock me with their pillow like appearance, for once I am
above them, and I inflict the injury.

The moon shines gently as I sleep for the first time as a part of space, I am a star that will grow and never be alone.
This was written when I was incredibly sleep deprived, and was cursing insomnia every second of every day.

— The End —