Survival (of Insomnia?)
back, body ache in surprisingly harmonious
symphony of pain. Tense limbs, muscles, tendons
taut with strain; so I'm resisting nature's call and
denying the pin pricks flicking through un-numbed
feet. I'm reading poetic ponderings and sleeping
whilst awake, as their words breathe through my
mind like tempestuous hurricanes; so powerful –
but whispers and lies and lures call to me; I yearn to
just sleep, give in, but am trapped in my addiction.
Don't let go. Don't let go. Won't let go.
Holding on is everything (I'm still awake; alive), and yet
it's so totally, surprisingly stifling: Survival is killing me.