PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sometimes,
when I don't sleep,
I see things, hear things,
when they start to creep.
I know they aren't real,
but as I lie waking,
they don't realize that
it's my sanity they're taking.
High heels, whispers,
thuds, and conversation
about their ability
for my world's domination.

Sometimes,
when I don't sleep,
I lie there on my bed,
face up, and weep.
I weep to the monsterous,
the loved, the hated.
I weep to the beasts.
I weep to the faded.
It will weep with wonder,
with woes by it's side.
It will weep with sorrow,
for half of it died.

Sometimes,
when I don't sleep,
I dig in my brain,
and I dig oh, so deep.
I dig for smiles,
and I rummage for good thoughts,
but I always pull out
with my stomach in knots.

I vomit.
I scream.
And by pure accident
I will bleed.
But I bleed only one shade
as brutal as my world
on a red winter day.
I yell, and it's deafening,
but I don't dare make a peep.
Of course, this only happens sometimes...
when I don't sleep.