Empty, home, searching, searching.
I am… about to explode
One light on, dainty.
One thing not right.
I’m turning mad,
I need to break free.
I can’t write.
My fingers are wild.
I am dessssssperate.
I need to breathe.
Well this is a result of not falling asleep when sleep is actually killing me. Excuse my incoherent poem but I don’t despise it anyway.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.