I'm used to it

I'm used to it

A Poem by Sleepless Dreamer

One of those late night poems, bringing it over from my tumblr.

I'm used to people forgetting.
I'm used to people leaving,
But what I'm not used to is the sound of my own breathing.
I hear it every night when crying in bed
While all these fucked up thoughts run through my head.

Why can't I just stop them?
Why won't they go away?
It's the nightmarish thoughts that destroy me at the end of the day.
I can't turn it off, like pictures in my head.
But I need more than a closet, I keep all my skeletons in the shed.

I'd burn the bones so they won't haunt me,
But in the end the guilt would stop me.

I'm so screwed up and my bloods dripping red
And I still don't understand what's wrong with my head.

© 2014 Sleepless Dreamer

Author's Note

Sleepless Dreamer
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Added on March 21, 2014
Last Updated on March 21, 2014
Tags: Poetry, life, thoughts, depression, struggles, living, alive, breathing


Sleepless Dreamer
Sleepless Dreamer


I'm just trying to find my place in life, and this is where I'm going to start looking. more..