It's too early to wake up
And I should've gone to sleep hours ago
It's too late into the night
And despite my tired eyes and
Pounding headache
I can't even fathom the idea of even trying
To fall into an empty world I can't control.
In the morning
I know I'll regret it
And I'll curse myself for
Not listening to logic
And explaining away my
Mind frame's clouded thoughts of
"I'm not even tired."
As logic.
But it's so late
And it's so early
So instead I'll sit here in
Perpetual boredom and wonder
Where my mind fled too
Because now I have to mourn
The loss of my dear old friend sanity
Who disappeared one night long ago
And has yet to return.
YOU ARE READING
burning roses
Poetry[Previously called "A Thousand Thoughts Like Shattered Glass"] These are poems that I write in an attempt to cope and I write them hoping that they will help not only me, but other people who read them too. I'd love to hear what you think of them...
