I don't really like how you pronounce my name wrong (Compassions V)
The insomnia came back suddenly
like the credit card charge after
the 30 day trial. And I had so many
questions. Like maybe it was just
eleven days of frothy white dreams.
but they were bliss wrapped up in
chocolate coated pink pills. But
nothing lasts forever. The sunset
sky ends to bring a hooded
cape. bedazzled with hopes
and dreams designed to look
like stars. Frowns often find
themselves on the flip side
and I wonder if happiness
makes them feel down.
Like how manic makes me feel
high and sometimes I just want
to be depressed. Because silence
at least never asks you to leave.
sometimes I like the darkness. It's slow.
and I feel like molasses dripping
on buttered biscuits. Like maybe it'll
be worth it or mean something.
line after line tries to grasp the words.
Trying to own them. But you can't own the
chaos inside your head. Its impossible.
Its wind in a tin can or spray cheese
at a fancy party. But I lay here examining
my finger nails as if the answers lay
beneath their unkept beds. But no
answers ever come from tucked in
covers and properly puffed up pillows.
They come at 3 am when the world
is asleep and your eyes are tired
but your body mistakes the darkness for day.
Yes the answers come when you're barely okay.