He laid in bed but he had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to bed, he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
He laid in bed but had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to bed, he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
He laid in bed but had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to be he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
AS the girls slept quietly all snuggled in their own beds they dreamed pretty dreams. The oldest stayed awake that night to make sure all was well with everyone. she could not sleep for she had things to do and think about before she could.
It was cold where she slept. She had gathered as many blankets as she could, but it still wasn’t enough to keep off the chill. Her friends family always had the air conditioner blasting, and when she looked up at the credits of the movie she found all of her friends asleep. The only available place to sleep was the lazy boy right next to the air conditioner, so she scrounged for blankets and settled in for the long hall.
I slept well that night. Was it the drug? Was it the unusual warmth of Bassie’s basement? Or was it the unusual feeling of safety provided by four sturdy brick walls and a iron-strapped door?
She stretched her arms above her head, trying to summon back the dream she was having. It was so pleasant, and yet seemed so distant now. She rubbed her eyes.
slept through, again. as early as you rise, with your eyes that are heavy with blobs of grainy information, bloated and swollen you blink hard and slow, and open to have slept again, and again, and again. Hello there, passerby.
The last time I slept I thought of her. Not her hair, not her smile but the lasting effect she has on me every time she leaves. The way my heart feels hollow just seconds after the silence following her absence.
He hadn’t slept the entire night. Every time he closed his eyes, the sound of crying baby reached him and surrounded his head. His eyes were red and itchy, but he didn’t dare to close them. Didn’t want to blink. Why wouldn’t it stop??
Yes! SLEPT THIS SLEEP AS I HAVE TO REST WITH THOUGHTS OF RELAXING THE WEARY WORRY THAT IS ALWAYS HERE BEFORE I HAVE GIVEN OFF RELENTLESS SENSE TO BE SLEEPING WELL ; i WONDER IF MY IMAGINATION WILL ACTUALLY TELL.
I stare at the brown spot on my ceiling; it has been my constant companion for three weeks now that my eyes refuse to close at night.
I hadn’t slept since the hour I ran out of those sterile walls; since the moment those glistening, metal stingers gleamed under bright, LCD lights, blinding me, sickening me.
I can still remember the frantic thumps of my heart. It pounded then as it did now.
100 years later and the set rot over her eye sockets pull back, her bones sprout fresh flesh. As her hair fills out and slides down mildewed satin, her thoughts emerge for the first time in a century, a single word in a still half-empty skull: why?
100 years later and it was still such a good dream.
Calloused flesh strokes her chin the way it did her exposed jaw moments before. Deep-set eyes and cheeks streaked with dirt, almost a skeleton himself. In desperation, hope, hopelessness, curiosity, he brought his aged lips to the rumored bones he and his team had discovered. Magic is love, not the other way, and to hell with what constitutes as ‘true.’
Her muscles, burning new, refused to move. He gave a smile—or smirk— (depends on who you ask) and brought his lips to hers, now full and alive.
She closed her eyes, despite her power to open them now.
It had been such a good dream.
I slept for what felt like a hundred years on the bottom of the ocean. I slowly drifted in the currents, bubbles forming around my face as I breathed the deep breaths of sleepers, and fish followed me curiously across the ocean floor. When I awoke I was seated cross-legged in a clam shell and mermaids surrounded me.
I sit up from the bed I had slept on. I rub my eyes and stand up, heading into the kitchen for breakfast. I make myself a bowl of cereal and pour a glass of juice. The house was silent beside the sound of the cereal crunchingh in my mouth.
It’s 5:14 p.m. as I pull in my drive-way, and I’m dog-tired from a day of teaching teenagers Elements of Literature and other necessary life skills. He’s slept all day, waiting for me to push open the door to our 748 square foot home.
He doesn’t drink water while I’m gone. So, between excited jumps, he chugs water, then trails back to me in staccato movements, leaving a minefield of puddles on the floor. “Hey, buddy!” Still juggling my coffee thermos and re-usable grocery bag of ungraded papers, I push him out the door before there are more kinds of puddles on our floor. I pull off my shoes, turn up the heat, set down my things, and breathe in this silence; a break between adolescent chatter and the frantic clicking of Dillard’s feet on tile as he follows me around the house all evening. I relax a bit more as the furnace pushes air through the vents like a steady rain and replaces the hum of fluorescent lights.
Sleep was all but easy for the girl. Every night, the same routine. Nightmare, aircon breaking, sleep paralysis, staying up. Insomnia wasn’t an uncommon word either- she felt it the best describer of her situation, but people took it as a word to describe her.
Jo slept badly, tossing and turning all night. She was alone, and since Steve moved in she had trouble sleeping without him. He would be gone for a long while. He was deployed in one of the ‘Stans, she couldn’t remember which one.
I lay here thinking. Thinking all too much about what if’s and could be’s. My mind is racing and I can’t make it stop. It’s all too familiar. This feeling consumes me and is taking over my life.
It’s been a while since Papa called me; I haven’t slept in days. I’ve wept out all my sins, and now I’m lost with Mary Jane. My papa’s quite the bastard; he lashed me pretty good when I was still but half your age, living in this neighborhood. Papa has a cellphone, but it doesn’t work too well. Is the reception bad, or is he just ignoring me? Time will tell.
Silver has been used since historic instances for
jewellery making, but has not survived in addition to ancient
gold as a result of it tarnished and decomposes.
I watched her as she slept.
I watched her chest rise and fall and pause and rise again.
I thought about our future, her mother, my father, whats between my legs and whats between hers,
I thought about the man in power and the cage we sit in
I thought about how she’ll always be a secret of mine
and I’ll always be a secret of hers
and when she wakes up she’ll see a girl that she can’t be proud of
i like to sleep a lot. sleeping is good for the body. it help you reax. it is a way of your body recharing. we spen most of our life sleeping. if one is deprived of sleep then he c
I sat at my desk trying to remain conscious but my addictions kicked in like a bad habit. As my eyes glazed over trying to remain, in the end, they could not. So I fell and I fell deep. I succame to my addiction and it felt good. Boy, it felt good.
As the Zzz’s lept from my mind and into the atmosphere nothing could sop the rush I had felt. I was more alive asleep than awake. It was invigorating. Why was this forbidden? Why could I not just pass away into this abyss.
Slam!
I awoke to foot padder on the floor. Turns out I was reminded you can’t fall asleep on the job.
I slept in and was late for work. I think I will be fired today this is the third time it has happened. I think if I take some kind of medicine I will be okay.
i slept for 5 hours and felt fine
i’ve slept for 12 hours and woken up dazed and confused
i’ve slept over your calls
and your calls
and your calls
and awoken to you at my door
it was the best sleep
where my dreams manifested into your appearance
Last night I slept more than I should, I overslept. My body was too tired and I was in pain, so sleep in was the best choice. This mornin I woke up bran new! What a fantastic night!
I did the worse thing possible. I slept. I slept when he need me the most. I slept him through his death. I was a sleep when the love of my life…. died.
He laid in bed but he had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to bed, he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
He laid in bed but had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to bed, he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
He laid in bed but had not slept,
down the hall and staircase, he crept,
over the strown toys, he leapt,
a midnight snack he prepped,
then back up to be he stepped,
and finally, finally, he slept.
AS the girls slept quietly all snuggled in their own beds they dreamed pretty dreams. The oldest stayed awake that night to make sure all was well with everyone. she could not sleep for she had things to do and think about before she could.
I slept last night very late. I have a lot of homework ! I gonna die. Today when I go to school I feel sleepy all day.
It was cold where she slept. She had gathered as many blankets as she could, but it still wasn’t enough to keep off the chill. Her friends family always had the air conditioner blasting, and when she looked up at the credits of the movie she found all of her friends asleep. The only available place to sleep was the lazy boy right next to the air conditioner, so she scrounged for blankets and settled in for the long hall.
I slept well that night. Was it the drug? Was it the unusual warmth of Bassie’s basement? Or was it the unusual feeling of safety provided by four sturdy brick walls and a iron-strapped door?
She stretched her arms above her head, trying to summon back the dream she was having. It was so pleasant, and yet seemed so distant now. She rubbed her eyes.
slept through, again. as early as you rise, with your eyes that are heavy with blobs of grainy information, bloated and swollen you blink hard and slow, and open to have slept again, and again, and again. Hello there, passerby.
The last time I slept I thought of her. Not her hair, not her smile but the lasting effect she has on me every time she leaves. The way my heart feels hollow just seconds after the silence following her absence.
He hadn’t slept the entire night. Every time he closed his eyes, the sound of crying baby reached him and surrounded his head. His eyes were red and itchy, but he didn’t dare to close them. Didn’t want to blink. Why wouldn’t it stop??
Yes! SLEPT THIS SLEEP AS I HAVE TO REST WITH THOUGHTS OF RELAXING THE WEARY WORRY THAT IS ALWAYS HERE BEFORE I HAVE GIVEN OFF RELENTLESS SENSE TO BE SLEEPING WELL ; i WONDER IF MY IMAGINATION WILL ACTUALLY TELL.
1slept=Succumbed Lightsight Enough Providing Tranquility
I stare at the brown spot on my ceiling; it has been my constant companion for three weeks now that my eyes refuse to close at night.
I hadn’t slept since the hour I ran out of those sterile walls; since the moment those glistening, metal stingers gleamed under bright, LCD lights, blinding me, sickening me.
I can still remember the frantic thumps of my heart. It pounded then as it did now.
For the future.
For the two of us…
While the suburbanites slept in their cozy beds they shopped for online I crept through their side yards with a cocked-n-locked nine-mil…
100 years later and the set rot over her eye sockets pull back, her bones sprout fresh flesh. As her hair fills out and slides down mildewed satin, her thoughts emerge for the first time in a century, a single word in a still half-empty skull: why?
100 years later and it was still such a good dream.
Calloused flesh strokes her chin the way it did her exposed jaw moments before. Deep-set eyes and cheeks streaked with dirt, almost a skeleton himself. In desperation, hope, hopelessness, curiosity, he brought his aged lips to the rumored bones he and his team had discovered. Magic is love, not the other way, and to hell with what constitutes as ‘true.’
Her muscles, burning new, refused to move. He gave a smile—or smirk— (depends on who you ask) and brought his lips to hers, now full and alive.
She closed her eyes, despite her power to open them now.
It had been such a good dream.
I slept for what felt like a hundred years on the bottom of the ocean. I slowly drifted in the currents, bubbles forming around my face as I breathed the deep breaths of sleepers, and fish followed me curiously across the ocean floor. When I awoke I was seated cross-legged in a clam shell and mermaids surrounded me.
I sit up from the bed I had slept on. I rub my eyes and stand up, heading into the kitchen for breakfast. I make myself a bowl of cereal and pour a glass of juice. The house was silent beside the sound of the cereal crunchingh in my mouth.
It’s 5:14 p.m. as I pull in my drive-way, and I’m dog-tired from a day of teaching teenagers Elements of Literature and other necessary life skills. He’s slept all day, waiting for me to push open the door to our 748 square foot home.
He doesn’t drink water while I’m gone. So, between excited jumps, he chugs water, then trails back to me in staccato movements, leaving a minefield of puddles on the floor. “Hey, buddy!” Still juggling my coffee thermos and re-usable grocery bag of ungraded papers, I push him out the door before there are more kinds of puddles on our floor. I pull off my shoes, turn up the heat, set down my things, and breathe in this silence; a break between adolescent chatter and the frantic clicking of Dillard’s feet on tile as he follows me around the house all evening. I relax a bit more as the furnace pushes air through the vents like a steady rain and replaces the hum of fluorescent lights.
I slept all the time in my struggle
then in an instant
i woke up
to see the beauty of my union
with all Divinity
to see the gift
of my Humanity too.
And now i run through the sleeping streets
jumping and waving
to wake the others.
I slept under the crook of his arm. There’s something about the way men hold you: it can be firm without being tight.
Sleep was all but easy for the girl. Every night, the same routine. Nightmare, aircon breaking, sleep paralysis, staying up. Insomnia wasn’t an uncommon word either- she felt it the best describer of her situation, but people took it as a word to describe her.
Jo slept badly, tossing and turning all night. She was alone, and since Steve moved in she had trouble sleeping without him. He would be gone for a long while. He was deployed in one of the ‘Stans, she couldn’t remember which one.
I lay here thinking. Thinking all too much about what if’s and could be’s. My mind is racing and I can’t make it stop. It’s all too familiar. This feeling consumes me and is taking over my life.
I haven’t slept in ages. I feel like a zombie walking around half-awaken with an empty heaviness.
It’s been a while since Papa called me; I haven’t slept in days. I’ve wept out all my sins, and now I’m lost with Mary Jane. My papa’s quite the bastard; he lashed me pretty good when I was still but half your age, living in this neighborhood. Papa has a cellphone, but it doesn’t work too well. Is the reception bad, or is he just ignoring me? Time will tell.
Silver has been used since historic instances for
jewellery making, but has not survived in addition to ancient
gold as a result of it tarnished and decomposes.
I watched her as she slept.
I watched her chest rise and fall and pause and rise again.
I thought about our future, her mother, my father, whats between my legs and whats between hers,
I thought about the man in power and the cage we sit in
I thought about how she’ll always be a secret of mine
and I’ll always be a secret of hers
and when she wakes up she’ll see a girl that she can’t be proud of
Umm…sleeping or you just woke up or something that involves sleeping.
I slept with him – several times – each time better than the next
I slept with him – he said I was really good at ‘it’
I slept with him and he never called me back
I slept with him and have been with him ever since
i like to sleep a lot. sleeping is good for the body. it help you reax. it is a way of your body recharing. we spen most of our life sleeping. if one is deprived of sleep then he c
To dream a dream and forget reality.
I sat at my desk trying to remain conscious but my addictions kicked in like a bad habit. As my eyes glazed over trying to remain, in the end, they could not. So I fell and I fell deep. I succame to my addiction and it felt good. Boy, it felt good.
As the Zzz’s lept from my mind and into the atmosphere nothing could sop the rush I had felt. I was more alive asleep than awake. It was invigorating. Why was this forbidden? Why could I not just pass away into this abyss.
Slam!
I awoke to foot padder on the floor. Turns out I was reminded you can’t fall asleep on the job.
I slept in and was late for work. I think I will be fired today this is the third time it has happened. I think if I take some kind of medicine I will be okay.
i slept for 5 hours and felt fine
i’ve slept for 12 hours and woken up dazed and confused
i’ve slept over your calls
and your calls
and your calls
and awoken to you at my door
it was the best sleep
where my dreams manifested into your appearance
Last night I slept more than I should, I overslept. My body was too tired and I was in pain, so sleep in was the best choice. This mornin I woke up bran new! What a fantastic night!
I did the worse thing possible. I slept. I slept when he need me the most. I slept him through his death. I was a sleep when the love of my life…. died.