Working through Sleep.

One night, I couldn't sleep, I was in and out of it for awhile, so I wrote this, I wish you could see the scribbles as my hand and head would fall asleep while writting this. Some of it I had to change just because you could tell there was two Ideas in there. 

I really wanted to write poetry that day and couldn't come up with much so I think thats what my subconscious desire here was. 

Here we go. 

Through blunt smoke and tears, and

that inexplicable fear, -poetry comes out. Unsure why 

I am denying myself from her pleasures

I only really want her to be right here. 

After long nights and cold beers,

hopefully I won't smear on this white blank page before me.

I only want to come out from that

place deep within, I can feel my bones begin to cringe

at that deep numbing desire to have you near. 

The fountain lost it's head,

I wish I can only see what others see,

hear what they hear, think how they think. 

My head wont lie down.