Poetry
Sleeping Bastard
Once upon a time there lived a girl who was very unhappy because she could not sleep. Each day, all the bells in the room were rung by her magical apple to tell her that morning has come. Alas, another sleepless night looms over her. Source: google The Sleeping Bastard is how I felt.. drooping eyes and skin that felt like George Romero's flesh eating zombie - I imagined myself to be just as I described. I was dead-tired that I could eat myself to sleep! Every morning, I had to drag myself to work like the undead sluggishly treading down the stairs, and into my car. I could not focus on anything that my head felt like an empty shell. Had I eaten my brain just like a zombie would in "The Return of the Living Dead?" My thoughts were crazy and dumb. I was delusional, angry and oh so exhausted. I had to sleep. I needed to sleep and the only comfort I found was in the presence of my writing desk - or was this my bed disguised as a desk - crazy, crazy thoug
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