bleeding.
this time the ideas come hot and fast,
with no place to go
but to the ears of my stuffed animals next to me.
half-asleep
not quite dreaming
but not quite conscious either;
it's somewhere in between.
this fever dream
lulls me to sleep
at least for now...

YOU ARE READING
✧ city lights and fireflies ✧
Poetrybecause sleep always seems to evade the broken.