Sleepless Nights
Some nights you feel like
There are a thousand galaxies
Within you, that are exploding.
That your whole body is burning.
You think you won’t be able to
Survive the whirlpool
Forming within your brain.
You ask yourself:
“Are you really a misfit?”
People might be right about you.
Some nights you feel like
A timid person who could survive
The storms in the Bermuda triangle
And come out with no injuries.
Or a little person
Who could easily pass between two atoms.
You ask yourself:
“Do you even exist?”
You aren’t really alive.
Some nights you feel like
A paper doll, beautifully crafted.
Delicate and loved.
That nobody will pass you
Without admiring you.
Or like a runway model
Ready to show the world her proud self.
You ask yourself:
“Why can’t you be happy forever?”
It’s time to do you.
Some nights you feel like
You could hold the world together.
With your bare hands.
Rather create another planet for yourself.
Where you can punish the cruel
And reward the loving.
You ask yourself:
“What can I do for the society?”
I really want to help those like me.
In the end you are,
Made up of stardust and skin,
Atoms and breakable bones,
And you are too alive,
To never feel human again.
