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i used to
hate, no! more like
afraid of
the action of-
waking up;
woke
up.

the moment between
passing dreams
and
reaching reality.
that lost time,
that found dimension.

where nothing is objective
in perspective
because the black hole
deep under my heart
sinks
and then drown itself
in bad blood.


but how can a hole floats?
doughnut has no cream,
never in the middle.
if for no reason
why
rise?

depression looms
between covers
under sheets,
in eyes of the mind.
like a dope
chaining a need,
the addiction
an evil grin.

an automatic defect
without sign
no warning
like how long this lunacy
will be,
or these union
of words,
or.


when you do not
sleep.
simply.

estherg
photo credit: Black Book

insomniac