Behind My Eyes.

wandering thoughts and a laptop.

every night without fail i always turn my laptop on and off at least three times.

i'll turn it on when i get home and i'll have something typed out within minutes and i'll sit until i think my brain has turned into mush and after that i'll turn it off.

around one every night i'll turn it back and write another five poems before the clock strikes two-thirty and i'll turn it off again.

four in the morning rolls around and just like clockwork i'm rolling over in bed reaching for the computer again.

i find myself incredibly cursed with the need to write constantly.

i can't even get a peaceful nights sleep because my mind is constantly waking me up with topics to write about and it gives me fragments of things to write about.

i wake up with either the opening lines of a poem or an emotion so fierce that i can't fall back asleep until i've poured every bit of my soul into a computer screen.

there've been times where i'll be blissfully asleep and it'll come to me in a dream and i have to wake up immediately and write it down before i forget it.

sometimes they come to me while i'm driving and then i have to repeat it in my head until i get to a safe stop to put it in my notes.

i'm constantly thinking of things to write about and ways to romanticize the smallest things to better portray them in my writing.

i think this has also brought my downfall.

i've learned to romanticize everything in my life so i tend to overanalyze every interaction i have so i read into them and i set myself up for failure.

i'll just sit here on my floor writing about everything until i can no longer stay awake because even now i know that i should be sleeping because i have work in the morning and i'll be there all day.

i spend every waking moment at work basically.

i get no time to myself unless i'm home and it's the early hours of the morning like it is now.

it's three in the morning as i'm sitting here listening to my oldies but goodies playlist and trying to figure out why things are the way that they are.

i wonder why i feel miserable at work or why i've had consistent panic attacks there the past few days since being back from the beach.

i wonder why people think it's nice to play games with my emotions.

i wonder why i'm never able to fall asleep.

i wonder why the numbers of likes and comments on my instagram posts mean so much to me.

i wonder why the smell of your cologne still comforts me even when you're not here anymore.

i wonder how i can still smell it.

i wonder why he doesn't talk to me as often anymore.

i wonder why my dreams have taken such a turn.

i wonder if things will be different with us this time around.

i wonder if i turn the computer off this time if i'll actually be able to leave it off.

i wonder if i'll be able to sleep.