trash

Its all a dream I keep telling myself.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.
So all of this pain makes no difference.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.

But its not a dream
everyone keeps telling me;
Time will take care of all of this.

I just want to kill the night.
I take a deep breath and feel the air in my chest,
And the warm blood in my veins.
but i still feel dead.
it makes no difference.

all my words will never be heard.
my words are land mines in my own mind.
theres to many questions and not enough answers.

so i tell you all my intimate secrets and fears
when you lay under the warm embrace of sleep.
i tell you everything i wish i had the courage to tell you
when you are awake.

Soon the sun will rise.
And all I have done is seen you sleep.

I just need to close my eyes.
Is it worth me trying?
That’s what I keep asking myself.