Half-Done Nights
Half-Done Nights
I am physically nauseous
As the alarm on my phone buzzes
With my favorite jam
Turning into the worst tune
I'd ever remember
And goes off simply liberating sensations
That feel like picking new favorites
And ruin them in the name of
Morning therapy...
Yet again!
I hate the goddamn speed
Of the dial, that doesn't sync with
My tiredness unworn since midnight,
When my eyes simply refused to shut
giving sleep no fair chance,
to play on my mind by replacing his words
Loop swinging on my forehead...
Ah! Loathing in my messy thoughts
Never feels this right in the morning.
I despise
Having to forget the disturbing facts
Of my life, that once yapped around my head
To torment my whole
Only now can I decode
The sweetness behind those lullabies
That Rob my sleep oh so gently,
Can vigilance behalf as lovable
As sleepwalking in misery?
I miss
The forgetfulness of my routine
The screams of the soul
And the Zen of my mind
Loaned to me by demons
For one night, every night
The kind of barter I win at
And float vicariously
In the lull of the dark
Before the storm of light
Takes over.
I miss being finished every night.
I diss on finishing every single night.