Insomnia.

It’s two o’clock, and I’m stuck in a zone where insomnia kicks in.
The thing is, I’ve been battling this inability to sleep since I was six.
Kicks in whenever my thoughts wander farther than the counting of sheeps.
Thoughts seep through the walls I placed whenever I’m trying to catch sleep.
Conversations partake inside my skull between yesterday’s reflection and todays.
Arguements take place because I reminisce of what was in the good old days.
One name is constantly thrown into the mix, but why does it have to be yours?
Looking back to these memories have begun a chore, I thought these were closed doors.
What more could you possibly want? Haunting me in my thoughts late at night.
And I might just throw the memories of you to a place where there is no light.
In plain sight, it seems like my insomnia is a result of a nocturnal sleeping habit.
But in the limelight, it’s the result of pondering what if we never did split.
We both quit a little bit too quick, if only deleting memories was done in clicks.
It’s 2:01, and I’m still stuck in a state of insomnia.
Paranoia has crept up on me, ever since we unhooked your bra.
Ever since then, I felt like that’s when the problems would start.
Ever since then, I felt like that’s when I would wish to restart.
But life’s not a game system that you could turn off at any given moment.
It’s more like a volcano erupting after millions of decades being dormant.
I wish I had a list of things to say that might’ve changed your mind.
Instead of not even figthing and leaving what we had started behind.
And I remember when I use to call you mine, that was so long ago.
A lot has changed since we last talked. My heart’s gone cold.
2:02, the life of an insomniac, left to think about you.
Do you still think about me? Did I mean as much as I you?
Cupid, you have a sick sense of humour, plauging my heart.
Shot me with a dozen arrows, none of them missed their mark.
I’ve been forgotten, like pharoahs once they’ve lost to mortality.
I just wish to ask you one question. Just one question.
Do you remember me?
2:03 AM. Zero, Two, Zero, Three
The former date of our anniversary.
Now I’m left thinking of how we use to be.
I know now that trying would’ve been the key.
We broke it off in order to preserve what we had.
Fuck it, we should’ve tried, we lost what we had.
Regrets will only kill me, so I pretend to not care.
Forget about you and me, it’s a story I dare not share.
Fuck insomnia! Fuck Cupid! I just want to sleep!