This is familiar-
Writing poems instead of sleeping,
When really all I want to do is sleep.
I want to escape,
And wake up.
I don't want to lay here,
Drowning In something
That is indescribable;
Drowing in air and thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
drowning
Poetry2020. Nothing makes sense anymore. Deep thoughts about life during a quarantine with no end in sight. -Icarus
