i tell myself not to cry.
to hold in yet another thing.
hung in my closet of secrets
until i am ready to dress myself
in the sewn cloth of despair
minutes crawl into hours
my thoughts now floating at the surface of my mind
spinning
spiraling
sloshing
slithering
dripping out my ear
the bad thoughts that spritz into a mist of air
circling me
crowding me
clouding me
drowning me
its now morning.
- how i sleep
