It's 3 am.
I'm filled with so much dread.
It's 3 am.
The mess inside my head is overflowing out my ears and the darkness just seems to spread from my eyes to my mouth to my ears.
It's 3 am
And I can't braathe.
And I can't see.
And I can't seem to think how much it takes for me to leave my bed it's 3 am and my head is dead.
My head is dead.
My head is heavy.
My heart is heavy too.
But I can't sleep even though I really want to.
It's 3 am.
And my mind won't quit all the useless noise all the mumbles I hear.
It's 3 am.
And I'm in bed.
And I'm insane.
And I can't blame you.
It's 3 am.
Please turn the light out again.
It's 3 am.
YOU ARE READING
midday thoughts
Poetrya collection of poems from 12pm just after i have lunch or not. 'once a failure, always a failure' 'tomorrow was always a dream'
