Slumber

It's 10:43pm. Tonight I am lucid, aware of the things around me. Most days, I tend to be careless like a whore dragged around the corner for a quick fuck. Most of the time I am unfeeling, so I simply go wherever the wind takes me. These moments though, I feel like I can see, and the fog dissipates. Whenever it fades, I see the truly sad and desperate life people lead, it hurts me so much. I feel like a mountain weighs on my shoulders, like I cannot breathe anymore. So I guide my eyes to the floor, and embrace the emotion of it. Too much of it, I think would kill me. Too much emotion, too much of the sadness or tragedy. It's strange to think of this tiredness, because I think that I would love the sweet release of sleep, but I know it does not fill me completely. Tomorrow morning, I will wake and find myself longing for more sleep, knowing there will never be enough of it, because the darkness of sleep is as close to death as I would like to be. Almost like I am brushing it, kissing it softly.