[ "There is no other pill to take, so swallow the one that makes you ill." -Rage Against The Machine (from the song "Sleep now in the fire") ]
I feel like I haven't slept in years.
My dark eyes are shady and filled with tears.
Will I learn how to sleep again?
Oh man, I wish I knew when.
Every passing beat, I miss him more.
Nine days since he gently closed the door.
Leaving me here with nothing but me.
Staring at the wall, it's all I see.
Am I making ne sense or a point?
Should I end my thoughts with one last stab of pain?
If I didn't finish, will I be "insane?"
I just want to be a non-existent nothing.
I'm so damn tired of living by writing.
I want to fall asleep.