A poem by ABRE about those long, lonely nights full of sorrow stemming from what-ifs when thinking of what was.
Do you know what it feels like to wake up with wet pillows because you’ve cried in your sleep?
What it feels like to fall asleep in a cold room but sweat due to heat?
A fire from within,
Heartache due to sins,
Ones you commit,
And ones committed against you.
You pray for a full night’s rest,
You close your eyes,
And try your best,
But to no avail,
Your dreams take you back to hell.
And then you wake up and your soul’s for sell,
Every day I’m trapped,
I fail,
I climb,
I fall,
Underneath my 600 thread count sheets I bawl,
Every day,
I find myself,
Crying,
while asleep.
Read ‘Too Dark, Too Wide’ here next.
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