These Days Poem by Mind Of The Sleepless Mind Of The Sleepless

Finding no will to live these days.
Cold mornings and breezy nights.
Wanting to find confernt but finding disclose.
I always get myself into things I'm not ready for.

Writing blank words on a page.
Waiting to hear the tick of time.
The air is cold.
Emotionless stares pass around the wind.
Finding myself drift at the sound of silence.
Lacuna and worthlessness holds me down.

I used to be happy.
But most days Im a ticking bomb.
Last days I felt so unamused at the silent girl staring at me.
When the A turned to a P the little girl looked back at me.
At P she was pleasing.
Found her looking at herself for hours.
She was in a slow boat somewhere, in the middle of that she started holding in something that was meant to come out.

A happy woman weeps at night.
The air is cold, breath is smoke.
Crying for no reason at all.

I was in a haze staring at the humming of time.
Waiting for a beep that never seemed to come.
The counters were round and soft.
The skin felt refreshed, a small wind but never cold.