If the night weren't so ambivalent, I wouldn't be so afraid to let myself slip into its sweet darkness. The conflicting feelings I have as I lay my spinning head onto the soft pillow beneath me leave me puzzled, but I know at some point the sweet serenity of sleep will capture me into it's arms and allow me to float among the gnawing nothingness. A time where I need not overthink all of the troubles, but scarcely dream of things that are fading fictitious fantasies, allowing my mind to escape reality for a short while.
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Poetry Catalog
PoetryThe best part about writing is that sometimes it speaks to you.
