The Sleepless Paranoia
The days grow longer,
the nights shorter,
not enough time to dream.
And I get all the more tired,
as satisfaction has become a common feeling.
But there is something inside that aches…
something deep, something metaphoric;
without a name nor face.
In silence, I think while under the bright light of the night’s sky.
Never-the-less, that look in her eyes makes me wonder if…perhaps,
I am only waiting to wake up.
It follows my every step through out the sun-shining day. Inspirational…yes…except…
it’s been too long since I’ve dreamed,
seeing only what is placed before me.

Energetically Tired
Sing sing sing a song,
sing a little song for me,
and make, make a wish,
make a little wish for me.
Kiss kiss kiss me once, kiss me twice, kiss me three times,
I kind of want it, I kind of need it.
Please don’t leave me here,
please don’t leave me here alone.
I feel it coming, I feel it rushing through my head.
Take take away, take this pain away from me.
Away, far away, I never wanna cry again.
All I want is one more night with you,
whispering how much you love it when I touch you too.
Cuddling me and kissing me where I want you to,
your body and breath is what I really ask of you.
Sing sing sing a song,
sing a little song for me.
Dream dream, I wanna dream,
I only see you in my dreams,
and then I wake up, and then I wake up, thinking
“Sleep sleep, fall asleep
you’re never gonna see her again,
if you don’t go there, if you don’t go up to her.”

Heroin
Today I woke up with a different vision that makes it
hard to say that I think that yesterday I thought that I
had all but what I now need.
Is it odd how, though I sleep, I can still feel her held tightly,
and that I don’t want her, now I think I need her?
Why do I miss her when everything I have become is
thanks to me and thinking the world revolves around
me and everything that I do.
Is it odd how, though I know, I am perfectly capable,
I still could not have done it without her by my side?
Never have I needed someone more, secretly she is my heroin.
For too long I have been a little slave, commanded by
everything the world said was right and wrong…
what instead I now think is wrong and right.
Is it odd how, though I know, I was once one who flew solo,
the thought of her leaving me is what now is scaring me?

A Time Of Illusionism
No more will we trust in he who has the solution.
Instead, we shall hold precious, the dreams that spawn the creation of our new day.
And these days that we live, we may them a time of illusionism.
In this time we are compelled to create illusions in order to rid ourselves of the harsh realities we face,
as early as the break of dawn.