My eyes are red from bloodshot nights,
My tv is still on along with my lights.
The portrait on the wall bids me to sleep,
But sometimes sleeping is a promise hard to keep.
One shall not sleep until the time is fit,
Like one will not be hungry and eat one bit.
To know my thoughts whisper through my ears,
To know that when I fall asleep reality becomes my fears.
These empty halls of wandering thoughts and stress,
And when the morning comes my eyes are open less.
Because one strayed away from a soft night’s rest,
And instead her mind threw a judgmental fest.
It’s 7 am and the alarm buzzed on,
But the girl snores in her bed, finally to dreamland she had gone.
- Author: sad sunflower bitch (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: May 26th, 2018 23:35
- Comment from author about the poem: I can’t sleep lmao, so I wrote this about how I tend to overthink when the nighttime comes around and it effects my sleeping schedule.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 10
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