Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

One of those necessities, is what most believe. 
I don't know though, it's been rare these days.

Up for hours, staring at the ceiling.
Up for hours, figuring out your own being.
Up for hours, the seems are falling. 
Up for hours, sometimes eventually crying. 

A process known by many.
A process known as anxiety.
A process known as depressively. 
A process known as ever more sleepy. 

You've tried dream catchers, but there's nothing to catch,
Everything you dream is apparently black.
Enclosed into a second layer even more dark.
The light never shines through once the eyes are closed.
At least I thought that, originally. 
For a few weeks ago, I dreamt my first in so many years.
I woke up already in tears. 
Never knew it was possible to cry in your sleep.