Awake, Consumed

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Insomnia accompanied with memories of things better forgotten. I have always had a hard time sleeping, and this is the way I feel. I know everyone can relate:D

Submitted: December 04, 2011

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Submitted: December 04, 2011



Three in the morning
and I am awake, awake, awake.
Every part of me twitching
without moving,
my eyes wide and unseeing in the dark.
I am torn to shreds by millions of anchorless memories,
a sea of troubles.
Half afraid to sleep, because I know that I will dream,
but desperate for it.
I make patterns and colors out of the blackness,
creating a self-portrait
that kills me and keeps me alive.
This is where you find me,
every bit of you that I can recall.
You, covering my fingers and face,
smothering my fears.
You, with words like knives.
You, with eyes like autumn.
I am not sad,
I am not happy,
I am merely consumed.

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