Sleep Now

I go to sleep as the night grows small

In the darkest hour before dawn

When I know I’ve grown so tired

I can’t hold on

Words, inside my mind I hear

Everybody hurts, everybody cries

Everything just seems so wrong

 And every letter lies

Outside the air is still and cold

And the beast closes in, I don’t care

I just know I’m going places

Who knows where

Gentle fire breathes onto the horizon

It’s time for dark to go

Leaving gritty specks of night

 sandy man's memo.

Sleep the sleep of the righteous

I ran as long as I could

 Finally the cloaked figure caught me

 And it felt goooooood~

 Katylove©2009

The real poem starts here~

Sleep cheats time. I don't like it. I go to sleep thinking of poems yet to be written...is this word right? does that one fit? wrapped around shards of letters and grafts of words...and finally I release them.. it feels good..like a tender pause...a sweet drink of cold water...
and in the morning light, I pick through the words and make them right,..moments of clarity...moments of insanity... one and the same...
and I realize this is the true poem.. the true voice.. yet I post the ones I struggled over because they caused such a fucking fuss how can I not…afterall they are the road i traveled to get to these...

Katylove©2009