Half-Done Nights

Half-Done Nights

1 min
316


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.


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