Inspired insomnia
By rmerwin
twistingsheet woven about my legs like a tourniquetthe hate and frustration flashing through my mind fiercely pierces the darkness of my roommy hellthe pillow that comforted me so many nights turned my enemyanother fixationanother symbol by which forgotten comforts of sleep are obtainedcomforts, wherein lie the blissful forgettings of another days turmoilif only for the nightI want nothing now but silencethe racing of my mind suffocating meI can hardly breathe under the weight of my emotions3AMIt's going to be a long night.Peeking through the window comes the sunin all its audacityonly now, as I grow wearydoes it come to taunt meor to save me with another days turmoil6AM I should get up, but I can't.Maybe I'll sleep another morning awaythrough to the young afternoonperpetuating my insomniacompounding my bitternesssetting the stage for more sleepless nights ofscrutinizing my character like some child trying to retrieve an ounce of spilled milkeye dropper in one handa fresh gallon in the other.I guess I'll get upwhat does it matter anyhow?Too much? Too long? Identifiable? Written November 27th, 2001 © on Nov 27 2001 01:11 AM PST, Rick Merwin 0 • 10
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"twistingsheet woven about my legs like a tourniquetthe hate and frustration flashing through my mind fiercely pierces the darkness of my roommy hellthe pillow that comforted me so many nights turned my enemyanother fixationanother symbol by which forgotten comforts of sleep are obtainedcomforts, wherein lie the blissful forgettings of another days turmoilif only for the nightI want nothing now but silencethe racing of my mind suffocating meI can hardly breathe under the weight of my emotions3AMIt's going to be a long night.Peeking through the window comes the sunin all its audacityonly now, as I grow wearydoes it come to taunt meor to save me with another days turmoil6AM I should get up, but I can't.Maybe I'll sleep another morning awaythrough to the young afternoonperpetuating my insomniacompounding my bitternesssetting the stage for more sleepless nights ofscrutinizing my character like some child trying to retrieve an ounce of spilled milkeye dropper in one handa fresh gallon in the other.I guess I'll get upwhat does it matter anyhow?Too much? Too long? Identifiable?..."