83 Days To Go


Sleep is the joy
In which I have found
Equal footing
On unequal ground

I’ve turned the light
For the last time tonight

And the room is dark
But it is not mine
And the bed is soft
But it is not mine

And I curl in the blanket
And I feel myself slip
Because sleep is a vice
Where I’m not alone
And I long to be owned by your lips

Where I am in my dreams is a meadow
And the wind whispers softly to me
It says, “here is the heart you locked up,
I see that he found you a key.”

And suddenly the bed is my bed
And the room is my room
And what makes it mine
Is that it is now yours too
And the wind through the window,
it whispers;
“You know that you cannot stay.”
And I cry and I beg and I whimper
“Please do not take this away!”

But back again am I
In the room that’s not mine

In the dark
I hold onto my heart

Then I hear your voice
And it’s never a choice
Because I know that you’re truly there

And although you are far,
My home’s only your arms
And homesick my only despair.

My sleep is no cure, but a bandage
And dreams are my temporary high
And they make me just slightly less happy
Then when in your arms, I will lie.

And I know that despair is empty
For it isn’t tied into fate
Time is my only enemy now
Though home will be worth the wait.


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If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741