“i know you’re tired but come, this is the way.” – rumi

and i feel like myself, a little more a little more. as each minute passes. as light fades to turn the sky to the darkest blue and black.
i’ve been waiting all day to escape to the coma of a dream-filled night 
as the sun and the warmth have done nothing but mock the numb and the burnt and the broken. 
i feel like myself a little more and more than that.
but that’s all.

see you there, my friend.

half the world is sleeping, i’m the one awake. and it’s hard to make the move to bed… it’s hard without goodnight.

my world
is sleeping, somewhere far away. so i’ll dream of distant dreamers. you sleep i sleep, you wake i wake.

and then
there are those pretty hours in between it all.

now that will never change.


where you wake to only your thoughts. haunting paranoia. sleep, sleep, sleep.


insecure, unsure…

s c a t t e r e d.

4am. i want to wake to grace and love and excitement. with a smile on my face.

if this is where i find my fear, this is where i’ll find my peace.

now now now

i can’t sleep and it’s hurting my eyes, my queasy stomach, my eyes.

i can’t sleep and my heart’s in a mess, a denseness, commotion, exploding all around me.

let me sleep.
let me dream.
let me go.

play the soft sound of the sea in my ears, rock me into the night with that muffled ringing. that muffled ringing that comes with the silence. louder and louder and louder. until it’s not so silent, anymore. whatever you do, do it quick.

let me sleep. it’s hurting my eyes.


i won’t be sleeping anytime soon. my eyes aren’t tired. my mind is wired. too many thoughts are racing to let me rest just yet.

please come soon.]

it came out of nowhere and now it’s nothing again, not that it was anything, but still – it was something nonetheless. something i’d kinda missed, i guess, when i think about it at least.

oh sigh.

i’ll just convince myself some more.

i wish i could say it was numb that i felt, that i feel. but we all know that’s a lie. i feel too much, about everything. i know that’s my problem. i just don’t know why. or how to fix it. fix me. it isn’t about anything but how i feel, now.

please leave soon.]

goodnight, goodnight.

sometimes, when i lay awake in bed, i’ll write, until the words, like a lullaby, push and pull against the melody of my memory to rock me so gently to sleep.

staining my closed eyes with thoughts of dreaming, it keeps its distance. for a little while. but it doesn’t take long – once the words stop crawling and the day stops spinning and my body releases my heart from its anxious pounding, from its relentless grip – rest becomes me.

time to dream. time to sleep. time to lose hours so freely. time like no other, no track or measure. just time, peace, perfect pace.

keep the nightmares away. catch my sweet thoughts, let them last into day.

pleasant dreams and sweet ones.

as steady as the rainfall

the susurrus of rain on the roof stirs me so gently from sleep, this morning.

and peaceful, i wake, smiling at the muted light surrounding the gap between the blind and the window frame, i adjust to the day. easily. and i pull the covers up to my neck, stretching my legs to the end of the bed, squeezing and relaxing into happiness, under the sheets. i wake, i rise, i smile.

sunday morning, the day is mine.


sleep was elusive, last night. i fell uncomfortably to sleep too late. with my heart racing and my breath shallow. something’s got me strung high.

if ever they touch.

asleep i fall to the small sound of wind at my window, tall trees pushing through the night and stirring the clothes that hang on the line. stars peeking through clouds, a sliver of a moon it’s light still bright and glowing.

the night time brings tiredness and that feeling of closing. another day done, another moment passed, another shadow of seconds and minutes lost in time behind me.

asleep i fall to a ticking clock and shifting walls, my brain preparing for dreams of madness like i don’t know in real life. the wind serenading me. and then a light appears outside my window, the glow between the blind and the frame, a picture on my wall. asleep i fall but not before those moments pass just as they do.