I wish I could go back in time to when my brother used to sleep walk.
Him sleepwalking was never a good thing,
he would try to attempt a death defying action every time: walking down the stairs.
We would shout at him and even shake him awake so he wouldn't hurt himself on the stairs.
When he would awake, he would be confused on how he arrived at the end of the upstairs' hallway.
Each time we would explain to him that he simply slept walked.
And each time he never believed us.
He never believed that he ever slept walked.
But, during this time I was more at ease.
One of the only things that I stressed about at the time was him hurting himself while sleepwalking.
YOU ARE READING
You Don't Have To Be Perfect.
PoetryJust like how no body owes anybody to be "perfect", this book consists of not "perfect" poetry by me. The poetry in this book will range from poems that I wrote for assignments at school to just poetry that I wanted to write/wrote in my free time.
