Sleep is all I need.
But I dont need to dream. Or think for that matter.
Watching life go by through lifeless eyes is like watching people breathe but instead all I do is stare; daydream.
Dark, black, crusty lips inhale the self hatred. Poopy, dark brown eyes with crust and bags under them looking at the body I was oh so blessed with. The dark pools look in the mirror wishing I was sleep but instead I'm awake.
Wishing I wasnt exhausted at two in the morning. Longing to go that dark place; to sleep.
Dark. They say that the root of it all. I get comfort from it. To know I can just stare and sit in the dark without any repercussion of being yelled at is a blessing to say the least.
I hate it tho. Two o'clock strikes, so I guess that's the time it likes.
My bestfriend always tell me sleep is for the weak. I'm the weakest there is then. I sleep at least 16 hours during the day. Because I'd rather sleep through my problems than face them.
It's like a drug. Its addicting. I close my eyes then in I'm gone. Reality cant touch me. But I wake up.
I'm up till six in the morning.
I knew it was bad when I woke up. The only thing I want is to go back to bed.
