Insomnia Is For the Weak

3:14 a.m.

Time to count down the minutes

‘til fresh eyes are counterfeit.

I flip, flip, flip the pillow,

gotta keep it cooled y’know?

But Night exemplifies cold.

(Sleep does not invoke fear in my fragile bones.

I long for it's warm embrace.)

4:53 a.m.

I start to burn my bed frame,

the flames should keep Night away.

Even the ghosts start to sleep,

their chill permeates the heat

that I carefully tend to.

(I shall encapsulate daylight in this room.

Rest is not worth Night's presence.)

6:07 a.m.

I had that nightmare again,

with the spiders and vast webs.

How come Night loves pouring rain

into dream clouds from my brain?

Ethereal loneliness.

(My dreamscapes barren, I suppose that makes sense.

Welcome to my paradise.)

7:00 a.m.

Peel myself off the covers,

bathe, change, just like the others.

“Well, good morning everyone!

Hope you guys slept like the sun!

Time for another great day!”

(I expect the restless to return ready.

Am I hypocritical?)

Insomnia is for the weak,

so take some vitamins with all those sleeping pills.

http://www.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/comments/44gnh6/crumbling_friendship/czrfpc2

http://www.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/comments/44n26p/empty_sparks_around_kurts_spine/czrfu5p