Insomnia's minions

Late nights reserved for dreaming little things that wont come true,

Insane thoughts and absurd sights

filling a brain like water in a bowl.

My bowl's half empty.

It was never really full to begin with and

I'm not doing much dreaming anymore.

Just empty spaces and soft breathing now;

Watching the ceiling like it's gonna

move sometime soon.

Kind of disappointed. It hasn't

moved yet.

And I get bored easily; the

ceiling isn't all that interesting

anyways. Bland and plain, like gray

on gray.

I turn away from the old friend;

maybe alarm clock will be more fun.

But its red glow is ridiculously

bright in the darkness and now I'm just annoyed.

Hurts my eyes.

Says 3:27, far past being late and the clock keeps nagging:

"5 a.m.'s gonna come much sooner then you think."

I don't have much love for nags.

Our friendship dies out real fast.