I can't sleep these nights anymore.
My mind runs reckless through the air stopping for nothing but heartache and madness.
No more, I beg. Kneeling at the precipice of my bed and licking the edge of a cliff I cannot name.
I am driven mad by wet wanting.
The devouring of simple thoughts has become my catharsis, these days.
These days, I don't even see the sun for hours. It sleeps on the other side of the earth while I lay awake tossing the thoughts of you from my mind like fragile seashells. I am gutting the ocean, I guess.
My music drowns only after midnight.
I can feel the cold air cutting on my fingertips as I fall deeper and deeper in the intoxicating pool of nothingness and yet, so much substance does the sleepless night bring to me.
Tell me, dear ones above the earth, sweet stars above me, when did the night ever become so cold? When did sleeping become the dance of the dead and not the pleasure of the living? I feel so cold.
I am so alone.
I don't want to be sad anymore.
The sting of sickly warm tears has plagued me long enough, but something tells me it is just the beginning.
These days, I don't know what to do with myself.
I am so happy most of the time, but then I'm so elegiac.
I am drowning, I feel.
I feel so much.
I feel nothing at all.
Why is my constant companion...especially right now, here. At night. In the bitter darkness.
Why don't you want me? Why can't we try? Why am I not good enough? Why not? Why must everyone I love leave me? Why? Why?
Do I feel pathetic.
There is the crumbled body of a broken child crying itself to sleep inside my heart right now.
I don't mean to be sad. There are such lovely threads of light inside of me, I promise. There is much to be thankful for. My words ache to uplift, only my heart is a little broken.
Don't run from yourself. It whispers to me.
My room, I assume, is quiet along with the rest of my empty house. I wish it wasn't so deafeningly quiet. Can't my books sing?
The plants used to dance to the song of warm sunlight and riveting moonlight.
Why don't they dance?
They used to dance.
I need to sleep.
I'm so tired of thinking about you.
I'm so tired.
I'm so tired.
Please, just let me sleep.
I'm so tired.
-k.p.b.
1:48AM
