Sleep is a bastard. An elusive bastard.
It hurts inside and I try to fill it up with everything I can to seal this wound. Why does it not just heal? The ache pulses and its energy pours out of my palms like a freaking hemorrhage. I press them to my chest instinctively, maybe to hold some of it in, squeeze my eyes closed and re-adjust my positioning but I just lay there like an idiot instead. So now I'm up typing in this stupid box and listening to music in attempt to refocus the energy I seem to be bleeding out all over the place.
Mother effer.
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