Insomnia

Intoxicating nights but I get no sleep, insomnia creeps in like an unwanted thief.

I lie awake dreading the dawn for I know before too long another day is upon for I am here but actually gone.

Restless at heart and mind looking for ways to occupy my time as I lie awake in worry like the ground below me hopes for the weatherman to say pouring rain, and while I wait I sit in pain thinking about the ways that could, should, and would of been one day, if I just hadn’t put my selfishness in the way.

I can’t go on like this but I must otherwise I’ll go back where I came from, a meaningless collection of dust.

Sleeping was meant for living and living was meant for seeing and seeing was meant for believing and believing was meant for saving and the end, was made for dying. Yet, I set trying, trying for better things but I let them slip away, and at the end of the day my crying that comes from the idea of dying, leaves me in shame.