Storms.

There's a storm outside and the storm in my mind still has yet to die. My eyes feel heavy along with my thoughts and i don't know why i feel so distraught. Its pretty odd. I feel so off. So are my thoughts.
Its oddly bright outside and the storm has gone away. But the one inside still remains. But i can't help but feel that i'm restrained.
They say the covers protect you from all the ghosts and ghouls and things but they can't free me from how I feel and i feel as though i'm living in hell. This blanket is my safety shell it keeps me warm from my cold thoughts that come to me as i drift to sleep.
Its 6 am does the sun know that it intrudes my thoughts of sleep i'm in too deep with these thoughts that remind me of bleeding lines that threaten me to take my life. It's all over when the light from the sun comes in. it peers  on to my dull walls. It makes them bright and eventually it will fill me with artificial life. And when that dreaded sun goes down, i guess it's safe to say
There's a storm outside and the storm in my mind still has yet to die. My eyes feel heavy along with my thoughts and i don't know why i feel so distraught. Its pretty odd. I feel so off. So are my thoughts.