Night is gone and it is still dark
Thinking is beyond me,
But, nevertheless, thoughts rattle my sleep
Certain ones are taunting.

Like why when I turn off the light
And shut the door and lay to rest,
Only halfway through the dream
The aching thud pounds my chest.

Or why when I lay soft and peaceful,
Free of worry, free of despair
I snap back to what is tangible,
And feel around; no one is there.

I wish I could live forever
Where I control my world, my mentality,
But it is entirely it’s own poison:
Dreams that satisfy more than reality.

This temps the thought of never waking
One pill too many is all it would take.
I ponder the ceiling, the fear is taking
Over what I have at stake.

Like maybe on impulse, lost in wanting,
A dream that that lives so vividly.
In my head, taunting, taunting,
That it will never exist permanently

It is haunting that it can not be real
Sleep’s constant threat will never shake.
On this indulgence I cannot dwell,

My head is spinning
I’ll stay awake.