I am trying to get to sleep.
But all I can think of is the fact that I could die right here, right now.
How I might never wake up.
How I might not be able to get to sleep because of all my thinking, so I will be really tired tomorrow.
How I may never get back to sleep, I will stay awake for 48 hours and become a zombie, the walking dead.
I think about everything that's bad about me, like my chunky nose and the fact that I think that if something bad happened to me or someone in my family, maybe I will get sympathy, maybe someone will care.
It makes me sick that I am so selfish.
I can't get to sleep.
Because my brain is whirring, head spinning, wires busting, electricity sparking, fuses breaking,
And I am thinking.
YOU ARE READING
Personification
Poetry//3rd Place Arctic Awards// Through poetry, this book expresses different mental illnesses, emotions and discoveries of a teenage mind. 'No amount of body lotion or perfume could cover up the memory of his smell on my weakened, scarred skin, And no...
