Eleven hours to sleep

Spread the love

How a day can feelStructures of counterfeit realities,

Composed of assumed normalities,

Designed from fantasy and desired TV realities,

A life I make to imprison me,

Order and rules to keep me safe,

Morning alarms and bedtimes,

Chores and tasks,

Dressed and clean and fully masked,

 

Day starts countdown beings,

Days get longer world shrinks,

Hours stretch like endless highways,

And the thoughts begin,

World starts to crumble,

Restoration starts with busying tasks,

Now fill the glass,

Drown thoughts in liquid anaesthetic,

Silence comes in sudden darkness I am pathetic.

 

Endless cycles repeating,

False life. normal for me,

Days blur from one to next,

My mental torment there is no rest,

Feeling so raw the are numb,

With human interaction I feel so dumb,

Midday the clock marks the time,

Eleven more hours the bed is mine,

Medicated sleep divine

About Mr BPD

About Author. I have Borderline Personality Disorder and as a writer and poet I explore my madness through the creative arts. I have a personal belief that even in darkness light exists and it is a personal responsibility to always seek the light and I find the light in creating something.
This entry was posted in BPD- poems, POEMS and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply