I survived another sleepless night in my bed.
I survived the ordeal without having to cry or beg.
I guess when this kind of stuff happens a lot,
Your body becomes attuned to the consenquences it brought.
I’ve written a couple of poems about my insomnia.
Though I’ve never really tackled what causes it.
Looking back right now, I think it’s because of my mental dystopia.
A topic I rarely open up to and I’ve hid the reasons a bit.
One of the reason is probably because I’m a mess.
My life is stagnant which makes me angry and pissed.
It might be because I can’t find myself in a state of bliss.
I feel as though I’m cursed instead of being blessed.
Another reason would be my disorganized brain.
My grey matter which brings up nothing but pain.
I try my best to stay positive, optimistic and to think that I’ll someday gain,
The things that’ll make me happy despite my ordain.
But life just shows me that I’m covered in stains,
And that my life is simply a worn-out and rusty chain.
Another one would be my nightmares,
Which creeps up on me when I rest.
They bring nothing but grief and though I give them a fierce glare,
It’s not enough to stop them from their protest.
My nightmares scare me to the point,
That I think it’s better that I don’t sleep in this joint.
I think that when I sleep, one day I’ll stop breathing.
But at least that would be a peaceful way of dying.
What keeps me up as well are my suicidal thoughts.
The thoughts about wanting to kill myself aren’t pleasant at all
And at times, they make me feel so insignificant and small,
That I just want to go to a corner and curl up like a ball.
It’s not an everyday occurence, but it’s something I have long fought.
The morning comes and with it, so does a new day.
Who knows, maybe I’ll end up sleeping sometime today.
And when I wake up, I wouldn’t feel so down and astray.
Maybe I’ll end up feeling okay.