The Real Talk of an Insomniac

I have been told I have the happiest eyes.
I have been told they are the saddest shade of blue.

I believe both to be true.


But these eyes are tired.


Sleep have escaped this blue longer than a bad family reunion.

And I see you.

I see you, your Paris, and the way you dream.
But you can't see me, you're too busy sleeping.

You don't see the man who takes the stairs instead of the elevator because he wants to feel like he knows where he is going.
Who takes the beaten path because he likes the scenery better.
Who is afraid of sleeping, because he's worried he might miss a beautiful moment.



At night, I have staring contests with the stars
Don't get me started with the reigning champion Mars
I count the cars that drive by and the headlights make me blink.

The constellations have won again.

When I close my eyes, I look at the back of my eyelids and search for Paris, yet Paris is more than a few staring contests away.

I try to dream, but can't fall asleep because of the way you make me feel, the way you get my mind racing, the way you make me stop breathing.

You see, because of you I'm an Insomniac,
One thought of you and I have a heart attack,
Yes, this cardiac arrest in my chest
Is why you deprive me of my rest

But, rest assured, you don't even know.

You're too busy sleeping.

While I'm wide awake,
dreaming for the whole world to see.

 - Your captain, Sawyer Young