forgive me if i stutter, but you're so flawless that my imperfections are swallowing me whole.

teach me what it's like to sleep through the night. what's the use in sleeping if you can't even dream? i've got so many questions that i never thought up in the first place and not a single answer worth stating. what's the use in sleeping if you can't even dream? the only dreaming i do is the daytime kind. i dream about you all the time; daytime kind.


i still fight shutting my eyes like i'm five years old and my mother's tucking me in. i'm burnt out and ready to slip in to sheets and lose myself, but i can't. i can't. what if i miss something? what if i miss out on something better? all that i'd do is read anyway. all that i'd do is write. write the words i could think up in the morning, too.


i'm burnt out and ready to lose myself. i'm far gone and ready to sleep through the night. i'm ready to dream, the nighttime kind. i'm ready to find you at midnight just as i do at noon. i'd like to call in sick from hoping and simply live in the moment, sleep through the moment.

i'm fairly well rested for someone who's so busy over nothing.
i'd rather be wasting hours with you than the tick tocking of a classroom that provides nothing more than a location for daytime kind of dreaming.

i dream about you all the time.