I've forgotten how to sleep
I am Revolution :: Words :: Journals
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I've forgotten how to sleep
You're as thick and heavy on my mind as honey - stupidly sweet and equally irresistable and this isn't helping one bit. its like you've seeped in through my pores with the humidity and the heat and you've settled in my brain cavity, napping, uncaring of whatthefuck you do to me.
it's like I'm living and breathing dreams, and my body doesnt understand that you dream when you're aleep, not awake.
if I dream when I'm awake then is that as good as sleep?
because the pounding in my head, the aching of my joints, the black spinning and settling and spinning again behind my eyes, they're telling me sleep is a good idea. and I'm telling them I know.
but something isnt letting up.
I need you now like I didnt ever imagine before. I need you holding my hand to keep me upright when the dizziness is trying to drag me down. I need you pressed against me, sweaty skin on sweaty skin, in some sort of hazy symbiosis of exhaustion, sheilded from the unbearable heat be the consistent hum of housefans. I need you stealing me away at waypastmybedtime to beaches and rivers, pushing and prodding til I'm immersed in the midnight black water, til it coats me like the second skin of confidence that only your touch can bestow.
I'm watching destiny slip away with ewch push and pull of the sun and the horizon and I'm sleeping away my dread because if I can dream of you and speak to you and then dream of you again maybemaybe it will be okay and I can pretend you're here, fingers intertwined with mine, prickling my sweat-slicked, sun-darkened skin and giving me lazy kisses that push us far closer to overheating than they should.
I'm feeling more and more at home behind the piano, and more and more lost in my own voice (his words still because I think I might also have forgotten how to speak) because its notaperson and I dont want people to deal with right now.
you dont count because you're a part of me, and I never push myself away, even the parts I don't like.
its the summer.
it must be.
it's like I'm living and breathing dreams, and my body doesnt understand that you dream when you're aleep, not awake.
if I dream when I'm awake then is that as good as sleep?
because the pounding in my head, the aching of my joints, the black spinning and settling and spinning again behind my eyes, they're telling me sleep is a good idea. and I'm telling them I know.
but something isnt letting up.
I need you now like I didnt ever imagine before. I need you holding my hand to keep me upright when the dizziness is trying to drag me down. I need you pressed against me, sweaty skin on sweaty skin, in some sort of hazy symbiosis of exhaustion, sheilded from the unbearable heat be the consistent hum of housefans. I need you stealing me away at waypastmybedtime to beaches and rivers, pushing and prodding til I'm immersed in the midnight black water, til it coats me like the second skin of confidence that only your touch can bestow.
I'm watching destiny slip away with ewch push and pull of the sun and the horizon and I'm sleeping away my dread because if I can dream of you and speak to you and then dream of you again maybemaybe it will be okay and I can pretend you're here, fingers intertwined with mine, prickling my sweat-slicked, sun-darkened skin and giving me lazy kisses that push us far closer to overheating than they should.
I'm feeling more and more at home behind the piano, and more and more lost in my own voice (his words still because I think I might also have forgotten how to speak) because its notaperson and I dont want people to deal with right now.
you dont count because you're a part of me, and I never push myself away, even the parts I don't like.
its the summer.
it must be.
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I am Revolution :: Words :: Journals
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