Don't Tell Me to Count Sheep

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 16, 2018

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Submitted: September 16, 2018



"Lay down your head, why don't you go to sleep?"

I spend the hours wishing to be curled up in bed

And then spend the hours in bed wishing to be alive.

If tired is a product then I am the name brand

The woods are not lovely, only dark, and this midnight dreary has no raven for me to pass the time chatting with

So I can't be distracted from the endless loop of nonsense that hops over that fence

That feeds the sheep angsty commentary and scary stories about the wolf amongst them


They told us we can be anything we want to be we just have to put our minds to it

By they I mean our parents and teachers

That’s great and all but I don't want to be anything,

I don't mean I want to be nothing, I mean I don't feel a pull to something

and that scares me because I don't know what I should feel

I pray constantly for God to show me what to do, for courage and wisdom

And it's not that I don't have faith,

But I don't feel heartbroken if I imagine my life without the things I love

I want to hold on to old scraps of notes passed between friends but I don't want to live in the same town as them

I want something to pour into, but nothing ever comes out

I enjoy the chase, but never the catch

I'm forever stuck between being too nostalgic to leave but too detached to stay

My soul tends to wander and my heart tends to linger


But it never gets close, despite feeling lonely in a crowded room

I want to be close, I want to feel connection, I want to feel that joy

But my heart is at the bottom of an empty bottle and no matter how much I add it never fills up

If I were a lesser man, I would keep notches on my bed post of all the conquests I've made

But each new love feels less like I've sieged a castle and raised my banner

And more like I am a ghost in the haunted mansion of my memory

Cold, lonely and unable to find peace

And there's still no raven tapping on my window to tell me my misery will haunt me nevermore

Nor a horse with bells to wake me from this cozy rest in the snow


My inner monologue challenges my depression to fisticuffs

And my mind fights my heart, whispering cold words of skepticism

That I have no real reason to be sad, that my life has not been one of misery

But of many blessings.

I am grateful to these things, but my heart still falls victim to this shadow

And I don't know what to believe anymore


Then someone says if you didn't stay up til five a.m. you might not be so tired and upset about things

Gee thanks, I didn't know that’s how sleep works.

This magical solution of just going to sleep on time is bound to solve all my problems

Like closing my eyes will accomplish anything

Because my mind isn't running a thousand and one tabs at once, it'll shut off fine of course

I'll just forget about the fact that no matter how tight I shut my eyes and no matter how dark into the recesses of the back of my eyelids I venture

Sleep is just a tease at best, and she always steals the covers

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