Instead of sleeping,
I'd rather fall back into the darkness
and let the stars catch me.
The stars will stay in the sky.
They won't be catching anybody.
Instead of chasing after a mere slumber,
I'd rather stay up and try not to think.
You're gonna think.
You can't live any other way.
Think, or let that soul of yours mar you.
Take your pick.
Instead of laying my head on an uninviting pillow,
desperately trying to swallow my festering problems and their persistence,
I'd rather force myself to run on empty.
No...
You'll be restless tonight,
and you can run on "empty" when the morning comes.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
