I'm not good at sleeping
In all honesty I don't enjoy it
A once peaceful renewal has turned into nothing more than tossing and turning trying to coax my haphazard mind into agreeing it needs rest
Sweaty palms and tired eyes as I stare at the ceiling
With warm salty puddles forming on either side of my cheeks
It's become more of a nuisance
Because it requires me to be alone with my thoughts
And the difficult memories that play through my head
Like a horror movie I feel like I've seen a thousand times
It's exhausting
Never would you think that sleep could be so exhausting