I wrote this early this year, when I was most definately not in a good place. Reading it now puts me in the state of mind I was in when I wrote it so I just wanted to put a little disclaimer here for anyone's benefit.
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Loneliness is being lost in your thoughts while everyone in the house sleeps.
The white noise of the wind hitting against the window
and ever consistent snores coming from the other room providing a soundtrack to the torments of your mind.
This time of peace, while the house sleeps,
Is my haven,
My solace,
The sacred time when I'm allowed to wander freely into the deepest reaches of my imagination undisdurbed and unjudged.
The time when my creativity runs freely,
I paint, I sketch,
I read and I write,
I do everything to distract myself.
I love the night.
This time of torment
while the house sleeps,
Is my prison,
My torture chamber,
My own personal hell,
When I'm subjected to the confines of my deepest, darkest thoughts,
Helpless and unable to defend myself with the company of others.
The time when my impulses run freely,
I waste art supplies,
I scrawl garbage,
I engulf myself in thought and I desecrate my clean skin,
I do everything to distract myself.
I hate the night.
YOU ARE READING
Night-time Semi-poetic Ramblings
PoetryI found a few poems I wrote a while ago when feeling particularly depressed, and you know what they say- the greatest works are produced in times of deep saddness or joy. By that I mean that they're quite bad but I'm not a poet and it's the best I c...
