When I am asleep,
i am brought on missions,
foreign and far away.
I awake exhausted and uneasy,
with pieces of the night before.
Haunting my waking mind,
with memories,
just out
of reach.
Sometimes it feels like I’m just counting moons,
and watching myself from worlds away.
There’s something devilishly charming,
about going mad.
“What is it exactly you want out of this life?”
You say, to no one in particular.
It’s funny,
finally waking up.
And while I’m probably sinning,
burning my shame,
there’s nothing else that seems to satiate this kind of hunger.