I'm a bad sleeper, I stay up throughout the entire night thinking and dreaming, breathing in, lying there like a weighted blanket in a half lidded heavy silence that fills the air in a suspension, I watch the sun come up through the blinds, breathing in that clear air that's only disturbed by the curtains drifting in the wind's embrace, the world's natural alarm reminding me of the ticking seconds that seem to sink wonderfully down into the roots of my being through my sinuses. When the world is quiet except for the sounds of the city that lay ignored by the world until the sun sets and lays a spell across the roads with their strange dysfunctional melody drifting through it it like spirits of another time. Time passes as if it's in my hands during those hours, sifting through my hands like sand, mine to control and do as I wish within the chamber of my own mind and the thoughts that always seems kinder at night than it is during its active hours. Yes, just breathe in and feel the sand sifting through your fingers as the hours go by and pretend that they're yours to do away with alone.
- Eli
YOU ARE READING
Cracks In The Concrete
PoetryThis book is the progress I make over the years trying to detangle years of childhood trauma and mental issue's. To anyone else it may seem completely incomprehensible but that's okay. I write for the reason all writers write, paper is a better lis...
