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Insomniatic
When you have insomnia
You’re never really asleep…
And you’re never really awake.
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
My mind wanders
And bumps into things in the dark
I stumble over tomorrows ghosts
As they shimmer in the shadows
Losing themselves before they begin
I laugh at the thought of lactating owls
I don’t know why it’s funny
I choke on my smoke
Coughing until the hysteria subsides
And the fall begins
I’m talking to the walls again
Whispering them my secrets
When the TV talks at me
The walls don’t talk back
Letting me vent my silence
The air stares at me
And I stare at back at it
We aren’t seeing each other
It’s all looking through
To the void on the other side
Everything ceases to having meaning
The madness gives way to an abyss
I am staring down the barrel of an empty gun
We’re playing chicken
It won’t shoot me and I won’t get shot
The silence screams so loudly
My head wants to implode
I’m begging for sleep to come
When you have insomnia
You are never really anything at all
Day becomes night
And night becomes day
The glass wall is inside your head
Take an axe to it…
It’s nothing but smoke it your hands
The ghosts creep and whisper
Dancing for my eyes only
When you have insomnia…
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
In the darkness reflected
From the screen glaring back at me
I am a pin prick in the universe
A mark to be washed away
As though I never existed at all
© Indie Adams 2011
You’re never really asleep…
And you’re never really awake.
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
My mind wanders
And bumps into things in the dark
I stumble over tomorrows ghosts
As they shimmer in the shadows
Losing themselves before they begin
I laugh at the thought of lactating owls
I don’t know why it’s funny
I choke on my smoke
Coughing until the hysteria subsides
And the fall begins
I’m talking to the walls again
Whispering them my secrets
When the TV talks at me
The walls don’t talk back
Letting me vent my silence
The air stares at me
And I stare at back at it
We aren’t seeing each other
It’s all looking through
To the void on the other side
Everything ceases to having meaning
The madness gives way to an abyss
I am staring down the barrel of an empty gun
We’re playing chicken
It won’t shoot me and I won’t get shot
The silence screams so loudly
My head wants to implode
I’m begging for sleep to come
When you have insomnia
You are never really anything at all
Day becomes night
And night becomes day
The glass wall is inside your head
Take an axe to it…
It’s nothing but smoke it your hands
The ghosts creep and whisper
Dancing for my eyes only
When you have insomnia…
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
In the darkness reflected
From the screen glaring back at me
I am a pin prick in the universe
A mark to be washed away
As though I never existed at all
© Indie Adams 2011
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