Insomnia/Restless

Merge Together

Folder: 
The Beginning

The nights go by,

sometimes it feels like I'm going to die.

But still my eyes, they have not closed,

still my mind stays exposed.



The lack of sleep destroys reality,

slowly tearing apart my fragile mentality.

I see in nothing but darkness,

and I realize I am heartless.



As this pain continues further,

I realize I am in the middle of a fatal merger!

My life is crashing down,

heading towards its end and spiraling towards the ground.



Reality hits like a tidal wave,

and I realize it cannot be saved.

So now I fall to my bed,

wishing that it was over and that I was dead.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I put this poem up first, because it popped into my mind as soon as I saw the category Insomnia/Restless. Like all my poems, it took only about five minutes to compose in my head, and it flowed together amazingly.

A note: I am making this poem my first, so I can put this comment in as warning. I do not suffer fools well, and I have little to no care for peoples Critique. I will read it, but don't expect me to change. I am a stubborn 18 year old, who's view on this tattered world cannot change. If you like it, awesome, I will probably get along with you well. If you don't, oh well, I'll probably get along with you well still. Also, please no religious stuff. :) Thank you.

View hatredofhumanity's Full Portfolio

Creeping

Creeping, they say it's haunting,

Creeping, they say it's taunting me

Creeping away, out of my mind

Creeping away, down my spine...



They say you can't be creeping, while your crawling.

                           {creeping and crawling}

They say you can't be creeping, while your stalling.

                            {body keeps Stalling}

Sometimes I can feel, my blood slowly flowing through.

Sometimes I can hear, my heart fade as it won't construe.



I can feel something slowly tickling from within,

a certain kind of anguish twitching every inch of skin.

I can feel it tugging, pinching like it's follicle,

To Myself I am Diabolical.





I can feel it Creeping, even when I'm in pain

I can feel it Seeping, into every single vein

I can feel it weeping, why won't it drain

I can feel it Creeping, Creeping out the brain.



{Can you see as it Creeps in within leaving us to divide the sin can you see it crawling deep this insecure depth of crawling creep}



I can feel it slowly tingling, twitching every cell.

I can feel it puncture, decaying my human shell.

A certain kind of depression rotting my stratum,

Creeping ultimatum.





It's Creeping out, every inch. As I slowly slip away

It's seeping out, with every itch. As I wholly decay.

Taking each millimeter every inch of skin

Every single chromosome flinches from within



they say you can't be sleeping, when you're snoring

Author's Notes/Comments: 

15:13 14 APR 2010

Song {} = background singer

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::Work in progress:: SONG

Folder: 
Songs

Lonely nights and heartache,

are two things she knows best.

She lookin' for the love of her life

doesn't have time for the rest.

She holds her head up high,

as she walks into the night;

You can see it in her eyes...

she'll never find mister right.



Just two lonely people sittin' at a bar,

one warm november night.

Looking for the answers in their aching hearts,

to make everything all right.



He's been her half his life,

since the day he turned of age.

Drinking down the pain she caused

the day she drove away.

He's been searchin for so long,

for someone who could break the chain,

then he could hold her in his arms

and end both of thier pain.



Just two lonely people sittin at a bar,

one warm november night.

Looking for the answers in thier aching hearts,

to make everything all right.



Will they ever meet face to face?

Or will they just walk on by?

They could have the love of lifetime

if the would only give it a try.



The is no happy ending,

for fate is cruel indeed.

While love was right there waiting

their heart were tearing at the seams.





Just two lonely people

sittin at a bar,

Looking for the answers in their aching hearts,

The ones that would make everything alright

Guess they didn't look to far.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wrote this while i was sick. Not about anyone or anything, just something i felt.

View dolphinscry13's Full Portfolio

A Piece of Typical Landscape

I fear the hand that scribes for me

It's polluted and so toxic, it repeats itself

It cries of its injustice, its lack of harmony

It begs me to do something right

I stand here every day, frying it to bones

Without any other choice

The jigsaw that's become me, I try

To solve and remove it, without fail

I'm left stumped with each afternoon

Beyond the veil of tones and lunacy

I twitch for hours, like an ancient machine

That struggles to mend its twisted cogs

I lack, I crumple, I stand to fight once more

Constantly running on empty

Without a source to inspire me, I'm simply here

Like a household appliance

Like a gutter on a rooftop

Like the nothing below your feet

And I've no idea what to do to save myself,

From this monotony

I've tired of the begging and the pleas for release

I'm constantly moving and pushing towards my goals

But my doubts are so clouding, so cliche

And that's all I'm becoming

And that's all that I am.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Oy.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

Home

On the ragged edge

Of the world I'll roam

And the home of the wolf

Will be my home.

           -

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Of wolves and men.

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02-23 Circumnavigating the Senses

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

Wait.

Why am I still awake?

Anxious,

I can’t sleep

and suddenly it’s too late.

Preparing

for what I know is coming

anticipation makes so much more sense

than feeling slightly drowsy, or even unenergetic.

Dangerously,

I’m operating heavy machinery.

Anything could happen from this point,

so my mind should print out warning labels

to stick to itself whenever it goes into overdrive.

Vociferously,

I use words I can’t think of

to describe what will happen soon.

The sound lingers long enough to exude

a sense of itself in surrounding and subsequent syllables,

at least until onomatopoeia sets in and the words can’t hear themselves think.

Incomprehensible

thoughts happen anyway.

They know they can’t explain

or even understand themselves,

but they enjoy existence in a vacuum,

or anywhere else they find themselves spilling

from lips in cascades out onto the floor for discussion.

Telecommunications

send messages to the mind’s eye

in this fashion, onto the screen which,

while playing movies for daydream stories,

blocks out the light so my brain can remain nocturnal

whatever time of day I find myself beaming carrier wave signals

for friends and acquaintances to pick up and retransmit with due discretion.

Call now, operators are standing by to install morphic resonance mental multimedia sets.

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I Dream Of Sleep

Folder: 
Romanticism

there's a pain in me, larger then myself

it's pushed me out

there's an aim in me, cannot focus on

it's still lock jawed

anyway



i just don't know what to say

there's more words in my head then all that you said

jumbled with what was never meant to be

what does that make of you and me



i try to make the best of this situation

i try to keep it going-that won't let me catch up



if i pause a moment, will you keep the motion

for both of us, remembering what i've wanted

or will you stop,

will i let you down

was i carrying you all this time?

how will we carry on?



there's a shame in me, bigger then the fault

sorry for myself

there's a day for me, calendar and clock

sycronocity

escapes me



i just don't know where to start

there's more paths to pick fruit then all the means to grow

tangled with what was never meant to seed

what does that make of anything



i try to make the best of this situation

i try to keep it going-that won't let me catch up



if i pause a moment, will you keep the motion

for both of us, remembering what i've wanted

or will you stop,

will i let you down

was i carrying you all this time?(maybe not)

how will we carry on?



i just don't know what's enough

there's more go's in my head then all the lines to start

jumbled with what was never meant to be

what does that make of you and me



i try to make the best of this situation

i try to keep it going-that won't let me catch up



if i pause a moment, will you keep the motion

for both of us, remembering what i've wanted

or will you stop,

will i let you down

was i carrying you all this time?(probably not)

how will we carry on?



how will we carry on?

how's this gonna end?

i dream of sleep

i wish i could just think

straight or long

without losing track

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"Singing to die, praying to live"

With Morrissey I sing along for the Armageddon to come,
Turn to someone I've never met to make this curse undone
Pray to God that He exists and maybe a Jesus too
Search for white instead of black, some more green instead of blue

Could I be blessed for just this once I ask the whos above
Could you help me to find a job to do and someone true to love?
I'm stuck in a scenario of a rich girl too much poor
I'm stuck in this beautiful hell-hole and I can't break down the door..

I'm sick of being sick dear God and sick of being alone
Every day is full of net and a quiet & listless phone
There must be something more to do & something more to say.
There has to be some more life to live before I die away.

Believe me all I have searched and moved, moved around the world
Seen more hell than the one in red and oh my blood has curled
But no more sorrow can I afford to feel for I have no time to spare
Must smile and bite the bullet now; just put it where I dare...

A right one will await me when I leave this life for new
I'll escape from all this fakedom, with friends so much more true...
With this hope I leave you  & with this hope I warn
The world is gonna change the day, the new Sara has been born!
©Sara Nur

Author's Notes/Comments: 

About how unhappy I am with my now "fake" friends, with where I live (even though it's a beautiful flat) and with being jobless, alone and sad :-)

View shahira's Full Portfolio

Excuse Me...?

Folder: 
Personal World

Rocking,
Catatonic,
Seeing a room all padded and clinical,
Is this real?
What am I seeing?

Did you just speak to me,
No?  What did I just hear?

Shredded,
Scratched,
My arm in bleeding by my own hand.
Is this real?
Is this a dream?

Did I just see a wolf?
No, I saw a friend?

Tossing,
Turning,
Sitting bolt upright.
Who am I?
What am I doing?

Do I even exist here?
No?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Anxiety issues

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