I wish I had your number again.
So that I could text you and tell you that I can’t sleep.
So that my mind could be at ease or with words you could please me into a land of dreams; where nothing seemed to matter but where fantasies became more than fallacies but my God given reality.
I wish you knew how I felt.
I mean feel because this feeling is more than real, it’s impeccable.
When it feels like a deal sealed with blood or when my heart beats harder with every thud.
No, for now, lets forget poetry, let’s just talk.
I can’t sleep. Lately, I never can sleep. I guess insomnia caught back up with me after we had a horrible breakup. I hate that bitch. Excuse my language but you have to understand that I’m fairly upset for being the only one left alone, awake. See I want to sleep, I need sleep but everything within is resisting the urge and I’m awake writing to a you but failing to realize that YOU don’t exist because no one is listening.
It’s a shame that I haven’t wrote in a while. Always flaring with the same old excuses; either I’ve been too lazy, too tired, too busy or the words I want to say become too overrated and well-known to some. Would you call me selfish if I called you and woke you up?
Well, it’s 5:14 am.
The sun has rose and my eyes are still wide.
I’m still awake.
And you still lie there, sleeping.