Five Score and Seven Bucks Ago.

Because if seeing is believing, then believe that we have lost our eyes.

 

 

 

Anguish wedged neatly between harmonies

flowing through my headphones, to my often doubtful ears.

Converse Hightops worn thin from the damn-near permafrost

Spreading like sickness over the unforgiving Earth.

 

 

Exhausting my only refuge.

Unfair and unsettling,

I'm never satisfied.

 

Funerals are an excuse for ex-girlfriends to lie,

ashamed Uncles to cry,

and little sisters to practice being invisible.

 

In a world where an athiest can fall in love with a Christian,

and I could find refuge in something real,

Girls will fall in love with something their hair products could never give them.

 

I'm brutally killing time in a series of five's and two's

tired eyes doing dances along a computer screen,

keeping them open so my mind wont shake.

 

These mid-morning migraines are more than I can take.

 

Author's Note

11/30/08
First day of snow
First day of full blown insomnia
First day in a long time I'll write something original.

Reviews

[Sagemind]

That was really reflective and articulate, and it certainly painted a picture. I've had insomnia before, and it sucks.

[Last Lying Look]

I really like this.
I get alot of migrains in the morning too. And the insomnia. sucks.
This is a really good write-- as are all the rest of yours :P
I'd have to say my favorite part was:
"Funerals are an excuse for ex-girlfriends to lie,
ashamed Uncles to cry,
and little sisters to practice being invisible."
Amazing.
-Elissa

[Zatoichi]

your writing is great as always but in this case heartbreaking as well. i wish this was fiction.