Buzzing bed

No

I can sleep

yes i wake up at 3 am

there are nightmares that wake me up at 3 am

and haunt me

sweats bathes me

and i shake wide awake

i am seeing a funeral of my sister

even though

i just called her this morning

the words in my dreams

are inpossible to decipher

they come together

merge

and the noise

buzz buzz buzzzzzz

is here

black and yellow bees are in my room

covering my skin

i can feel the fur stabbing me repeatedly

while the proboscis is eating at me

taking over my sleep

being the alarm clock

even though it’s not time to wake up

but don't worry i sleep

there are days

sleep is so light

and i am in a bucket of butterflies

and my own bed doesn't haunt me

and my pillow is my friend again

i sleep without dreams

or i sleep and dream about pultzer prizes, and driving with my sister,

and going to some hipster indie concert

and that is where i feel so alive

but then there are days

i am the most restless being alive

my soul is in the middle of a bee hive

Blood all over the bees

From eating at me

The yellow seems to fade

my  hours of sleep is not a set schedule

and i'm fine

nightmares don't just leave

they  can't erase

lts  like the back space on the type writer

there isn't one

and bees can't stop swarming

especially when a so-called father is there permantly

or the irrational dreams of death that never leave

but no

i am not sad

well i am

but not like that

i don't cry in bed and stay awake all night from my salted tears

i'm mad

im pissed

i wake up and i'm angry

that i had another nightmare

that i got stung by a million bees once again

i have bumps all over

everyone will notice not the bees

but my lack of sleep

the racoon eyes I have

Not the welts

And the hives

but the thing i forgot to mention

is bees make honey

and honey makes up for lost hours of sleep

i wake up and i remember it’s not real

i remember im home

not in the hell hole of his house

and then i write a poem

just like this one

and my emotions begin to soothe

maybe these bees are healing

helping me cope without actually noticing

maybe that's the honey

bees have pollinated

and the buzzing becomes silent

once that honey has come

the great thing about honey

is it never expires

my healing can never expire

this is just the coping for right now

so don't say i don't sleep

i do

just not all twelve of the hours you want me to

TS.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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