zombie248trioxin

My Girl & Mr Insomniac
Current mood: discontent
Category: Blogging

It had been days since he had slept.
he'd try oh sure he'd try but it wouldnt happen.
something kept him up.

maybe it was the fact that his girl wasnt by his bed side.
shifting her but into his crotch. to make him feel warm inside.
or that she wasnt there to wrap her legs around his pale white hips.

He needed comfert maybe in the middle of the night. when he's on his computer typing away
while she wakes up mad and disoreanted from all the typing. Mr insomniac. come to bed.
Or maybe he enjoys putting her thru misery. while watching a frightniing movie on the boob tube.

Mr Insomniac. wake up i just had a bad dream please tell me something nice. and warm to ease me back.
and so he did.

past tense all of this he did.

Is it To much to ask for to have someone beside him day and night. come home she'd be waiting on his bed. watching videodrone. or have him come home to her making him dinner.

thats the comfert he wanted.
sometimes he'd act out.
maybe to catch her attention in a way that wouldnt make him more of a psychopath.

Mr insomniac. you cut your hair. and its all odd and different. oh how i do love it.
Mr Insomniac. you hair is red. like The crimson coated canvas that lays beneath your flesh.

Attention whore she'd call him. but it didnt matter to him
as long as the attention he received was from her.

He'd Lay awake in the middle of the night. while his phone rest beside him
the light from that phone hit the cieling wall. while he passed the time playing shadow puppets on the wall waiting for her call.

a call no matter what it would be. a dream a nightmare. and calmness. he felt. hearing her voice.

Days Grow into nights. nights Develop into days.
his lonleyness. lies in his room.
bordem controlls his thoughts.

Mr insomniac. was a statue. day and night. in front of his drone. nothing to do nowhere to go. he'd thought.

noone understands. you.
he is a broken machine.
a spare part in the junkyard of life.

each night. he'd lay in bed. each morninig he'd wait somemore.
waiting for His mechanic to come pick him up from his lonley junk yard.
to hold him. to ask Him How he feels.

She was appetite in a world of hunger.
she A Morriessey Song Playing on a Warm humid night.

Tonight He was Grim.
Tomorow He is Hollow.

But one Day. One day Soon She will Be the Pill
That Will Cure his Insomniac Blues.