Lack of sleep
I’ve had four to six hours of sleep,
in a span of forty eight.
I’m running on two.
I’m running on three.
One moment I’m high,
the next one I’m low.
Just an image from a long time ago
can set me off, bring me down.
I start to miss you,
I start to miss us,
I dread going home,
because I feel so alone.
-- By Aurora Faustini
This poem is about:
Me