Sometimes I don’t want to rhyme or focus on creating prose that sounds like a gentle lullaby. I don’t want to use cloaked words or phrases. This isn’t a poem, this isn’t meant to sound pretty or flow well. These are just my thoughts.
I don’t sleep anymore. There are way too many things to think about. The night is quiet, and the distractions of the day disappear as the sun does. I miss the people I shouldn’t miss. I relive scenes of the past, running them through my mind, mapping out fictional possibilities. All of my regrets circulate through my mind: missed chances, lost connections