Getting into the swing of writing again - and playing with graphology :)
Insomnia
My lids are blue and veined
Pulled
down.
Drooping.
I seem to be cradling thoughts, but they’re crying
Loud screeches on an unrelenting loop.
There is a point in the night that I sway
I’m
falling and it’s incredible.
Then I jolt and I’m sitting up,
Staring at the tessellating pattern on the wall.
I’ve rid the clock of its battery,
Drawn the curtains fully - dark, like it should be...
But even I can hear my own breathing
And it’s tearing me from sleep. Oh, to sleep!
Every bone cracking. Every flare of the radiator.
The gurgles of water. The rumbling of cars.
They crawl into my eyes and pry them wide,
Leaving me alone with thoughts and the moon and the stars.
My energy is at a low, yet my body seems content to fidget,
Twitching, convulsing - reluctant to relax and be still.
And I can down the bottle...
But it’s 4.54am and I need to be up in an hour - what good is a pill?
My lids are blue and veined
Pulled
down.
Drooping.
I seem to be cradling thoughts, but they’re crying
Loud screeches on an unrelenting loop.
There is a point in the night that I sway
I’m
falling and it’s incredible.
Then I jolt and I’m sitting up,
Staring at the tessellating pattern on the wall.
I’ve rid the clock of its battery,
Drawn the curtains fully - dark, like it should be...
But even I can hear my own breathing
And it’s tearing me from sleep. Oh, to sleep!
Every bone cracking. Every flare of the radiator.
The gurgles of water. The rumbling of cars.
They crawl into my eyes and pry them wide,
Leaving me alone with thoughts and the moon and the stars.
My energy is at a low, yet my body seems content to fidget,
Twitching, convulsing - reluctant to relax and be still.
And I can down the bottle...
But it’s 4.54am and I need to be up in an hour - what good is a pill?