by Rebecca Mahar 11 months ago in sad poetry

Sleep is all I need.


The whirl of the fan hums

quietly by my ear.

My eyes glued to the ceiling,

the faces of those I have spoken to

during the day flash past me

and I start to feel dizzy.

My existence feels worn out,

lost and forgotten

in the depths of my mind.

The whirl becomes deafening

silence and my mind races

faster than before.

Tossing and turning

feels like a fight nowadays,

blankets on the floor and

a pillow over my face.

The sun peaks over

the trees and my heart

aches for more rest.

Sleep escapes me

constantly now.

The ghost of rest haunts



sad poetry
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Rebecca Mahar

Hi there! I love writing and anything really creative and so I figured I'd try my hand here at writing poems and possibly stories. Everyone needs a hobby, right?

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