Tuesday, September 15, 2009

the writing flows...

I can't sleep tonight, and the people I talk to just make me mad.
I complain to much I know.
I just had a bad day
excuses I know
so I complain to much fine I'll just stop talking not complaining then
I'm so tired my thoughts are discombobulated
My bed is empty
I'm so tired I wish I was sleepy.

Your bed, there is just something about it, on a bad day falling into it fully clothed sunshine bright...and that part of you pent up all day dissolves with the sigh. and the mattress bends to its familer sketch and you curle up longing to cry sometimes for the second or third time that day. And you can't help but wonder as the tenseness seeps away as your body goes numb am I dieing right now like this? And you realize you hate getting out of bed each day and that realization makes you sad no one should have to feel that way. Then you wonder will you ever find the heart to get back up and do it for one more, one more time. Baby I miss you more so tonight.

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