Sleepless nights

In my bed, three am, staring at the ceiling. Knowing good and well my sleeping pill is nothin' but poison. Because I can't dream those dreams anymore. To wake up the next morning and see them shattered on the floor. So....I'll just stare at the ceiling, in hopes, that it will swallow me whole. 

I hate this, it makes me sick, to see my heart crumple. Day dreaming won't save anything, it only adds to my troubles. So that lack of sleep, that lack of drive, that thinking mind that once was mine, was squander by the thoughts of love.  So screw the world and leave me to my chocolate, but, even that is loosing it's taste...