The Side

There are many nights, when I'm all alone. The bedroom, the pillow. a small simple room. I lie on my side, so quiet, the night, Should I get up again for a snowy screen light. Should I turn once more, should I creep down the hall. Despite all this, I turn to the wall. And instead of sleeping, when the sun takes it's rest. I stare at the cracks, the paint, the chest. And when the numbness kicks in, I turn once again. A bathroom light, a closet, a fan whirling wind. Ah yes, and then, normality sinks in... And of all these objects, so aloof, so kempt. I envy their apathy, I envy descent. Wishful thinkings and longings of a a complete empty mind, Tears of anxiety and fears of all kind. Please give me sleep, please, make me less more. I wish to be barren of feelings no more. I ask you my friend, as I step in the wall. Nail all of these boards, nail one, nail all. And when the day comes, when a soul trembles with fear. They'll hear my soft tapping... and know someone's is here. And they shall sleep, so sweet, so deep in a dream. For without them, they'll be lost, and forget what they mean.