5-29-16 Midnight

 •Midnight• 

When the clock strikes twelve

My mind becomes words I don't understand 

My legs drooping flower stems wilting beneath the snow

My hands unable to grasp a pencil

Words turn into scribbles on paper

I don't even understand my own writing 

I'm out of breath 

I'm too tired to breathe 

When the clock strikes twelve

I am one body 

While everyone dreams 

I am trapped in a web of my own language unable to decipher it

False false false false

F

A

L

S

E

Repeating it over and over again until it becomes an abstract drawing on a wall in an art museum

When the clock strikes twelve

I see my hands form into knives, shaking on my bedside afraid to flinch 

My hairs feels like straw 

My eyes dry and cracked 

When the clock strikes twelve 

I close my eyes 

Hoping to dream about another universe besides me own

But stay awake behind bars in my own prison

I have the keys 

But it's comfortable 

I grab my hand and turn it towards myself 

True true true true 

T

R

U

E

I stare into my own eyes everyday 

TRUE 

A sign across my eyes in black ink 

When the clock strikes twelve

A close my eyes believing a lie

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