Poetry · Uncategorized

Insomnia

People often wonder what happens in your room

when the sky goes black.

Is there a Sandman there to bring you dreams?

Are there creatures in the closet?

 

They ask about what happens

when your eyes are closed,

if something happens during those early hours of the AM.

Do things even happen?

 

I can tell you.

I live there.

Those hours between midnight and six A.M.

That is where I live.

 

I am moonlight.

I am shadows.

I am early, early sunlight.

I am fog and morning dew.

I am dark thoughts

and tear stained pillow cases.

 

I am insomnia.

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2 thoughts on “Insomnia

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