Still awake
I can't sleep. I'm frustrated and nothing I do seems to take that edge off. I've got to get up for work in less than four hours and I can't find rest. I want to explode into a rage and thrash about destroying everything I touch, but that wouldn't be sensible. I just want to break out of this shell and be something new, something worth the trouble of being. The words I waste here should be the sweet lingering nothings of sleep-talk, but instead they sputter and fall like moths burned by a flame. If there was any justice in the world at least I'd be able to sleep. If I can't have life in the waking world don't deny me life outside of it.