THE CURE OF AN INSOMNIAC.
( march, 2019 )
i am lost
thinking of you when the sky has
became a vibrant pink. when
mountains suffocate the sunlight
away from my pale complexion.
lost beyond charcoal clouds
wondering when you'll come back.
i am lost
at three am when you are all that is
on my mind.
and i cry myself to sleep
where i am met with you
and no longer stuck in
this maze of reality.
YOU ARE READING
yesterday's news.
Poetryxviii, april. (iv). gravestones as empty as the bodies buried beneath them. © playlist poetry
