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Keeping Me Awake
My opinions are my world,
my world is so small.
would everything i feel be too small to matter?
my world crashes often, when it restarts it is beautiful. i sometimes think id rather have it crash. if everything i thought gathered into a pool of bullshit and metaphors then maybe my world would drown.
i ponder self pity.
i thrive that sting.
it is myself i can not trust. i tell myself i cant. i have thought about my motive i could have. ive questioned attention. i feel greedy when friends are there for me. i love talking about my frustrations.
I AM A CONTRADICTION.
maybe its not the attention from others i crave, but the attention from myself that i long for.
i would like to hear my own voice exhale a cigarette and say itll be ok.
maybe hearing it from others is appreciated but not good enough anymore.
my opinions are my world.
my world is so mixed up.
would everything i feel to be too confusing too count?
i get so tired. a 5am-7pm run gets exhausting. when its time to get into bed and relax all the built up thoughts that were tied down throughout the day force themselves through concentration and burst into a thousand words surrounding my world.
they race each other and fight. they become so fucking loud. they begin to scream and tell me to wake up.
i sit up in my bed smelling my pillow and i can feel someone next to me. her sent is still there. her presence is strong. i become calm and drift into a fantasy of everything being perfect.
if perfection is a myth then why do i feel so amazing when she is in bed with me?
the thoughts finally fall back into their boxes and lockets and i become weary to the objects in my room. they start to dance and shatter around my head to wake me up. why wouldn't you want me to sleep? why do i become so cold at night? my bitterness leaks into my dreams turning them into a fashion of self pity and war.
war.
war.
my opinions are my world.
my world is at war.
war.
W.here A.nguish R.esides.
x
