To let monotony tire my heart
I wake up.
Instead, my existence is tired.
A search for meaning compels me
to pick up worry, confusion, frustration on the way.
At last, the meaning arrives in the form of a lie
My grey drizzly day ends with the quiet of my mind
It’s funny how sleeping makes me feel alive
and I don’t travel, to travel into
the world where I show myself vignettes that I ignore
Like an old photograph with rusted memories, dreaming sweeps me away from I
The absenceĀ of pain drives tedium of life to sleep
Until I’m pulled back to disremember.
To let monotony tire my heart
I wake up.
Reblogged this on Dagget Writes.
Thanks for the reblog. Appreciated
Of course! It’s pretty inspiring how much you write and I haven’t had time to read through everything but this one really stood out to me. Keep writing and I’ll keep reading!
Well, thank you š
I hope you read the other ones too, would love to hear what you have to say about them!