a little Tim Burton in my head.

the window is open and a breeze comes my way.

my red curtains have a life of their own,

like blood on my walls they brighten my day.

the cellophane thats on the floor is crackling a ling.

i open my eyes and what do i see? 

nothing is there for me, nothing enchanting i see,

nothing just nothing. oh my. 

 

eerie and dark they must think i am foolish

but i just want to be alone.

my little wooden door is open for you to come 

why won’t we just sit and talk.

 

voices are in my ear, i don’t listen

cotton clouds are overhead drowning them out.

piano sounds are in my head overclouding my thoughts

pictures of us are lingering on us, when will you come back…

 

its time to move on don’t you think?

so i why are you here?

just let me be, unfortunately. oh my.

 

 

insomnia brings such weird yet creative thoughts in my mind. it might be a song or just a poem full of empty thoughts. we’ll see.

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