the day
when even the not so faithful
were tempted to pray
for the health of the nation

I hate how I can't sleep at night.
Why does my body put up a fight?
I yawn like I'm gasping for air.
So I lay there listening to "The Prayer".

Pulling out a pen helps me sleep.
Rather than imagining and counting sheep.
My spilled ink allows me to create a universe on a smooth surface.
Like Van Gogh with a canvas.

I write till my face hits the table.
Every night is the same, so I stay up planning my next travel.
Sometimes I'll wake tearing a page off my face.
I'll read it then throw it straight into the fireplace.

I see a lot of Take

                        So I no longer Give

is there a condition
where one can overdose on empathy
on caring
until tears become a malady

Until others hearts
are nearly more important
than ours
and we **** up our life

is that or
could it be an addiction
to seek maybe sad things
and others pain

subconsciously
trying to alleviate
our own?

I am wondering
if I need an intervention.

You always

Have two options

1. Either be true
2. Or not

1. Accept the fact
2. Live in delusions

1. Fight for growth
2. Stay in your comfort zone

1. Trust your inner strength
2. Leave everything behind

Is what it'll take
but I'll learn to live without you
and if I fail to do
I'll try and fake...