Sleep

The night sets in early,
And the morning blossoms late.
The day ends in a flash,
but these nights they do not end.

Every night is a confrontation,
A confrontation with my soul.
I swear it used to speak to me,
But now it's just silence that ensues.

Her anger, her rage was better,
Because her apathy drowns me in guilt.
What did I do ,
What have I made of her?

That even she has given up,
On possibilities and on fears,
On memories and on tears,
And I worry if she's even alive!

Because I figured. I figured,
I am not afraid that I sleep lonely at night.
Instead I am afraid,
That when I sleep, I sleep all empty inside.