insommia
Learn more about other poetry terms
As I lay in my bed I hear nothing but my breathIt's too much to takeI need a white noiseOr else my breathing will become and takeMy sanity so far awayI will lay for hours on endTrying to make it end
It is two in the morning when I feel your warm hands begin to massage my feet.
Two of us slumped over each other, tired-eyed, forgetting other life subsists