Insomatic


Insomnia claws, rips
At the back of my eyelids;
Shreds flesh, pours harsh white light
Into the dark abyss I seek;
Incites nails-on-a-chalkboard screeches
That

thrum… thrum… thrums

Against my eardrums,
Shatters unconsciousness, and
Sends me spiraling towards waking.

{Sleep is a stingy bastard,
And Time, a thief I'd love to rob}.

Combined, they are Demons
That chase away Dreams,
Disturb rest,
Fuel the Nightmares and Hallucinations
That, in lacking sweet release,
That glorious, glorious drought of sleep,
Plague each semi-lucid thought,
As in desperation, I lie counting
Cracks in the ceiling…

One…, Two…, Three…

'Til the creeping stops,
'Til the itching abates,
And the monsters slither back
Under my bed,
Retreat back
Behind my eyeballs
And offer a moment of

Peace.

Sleep descends slowly,
A slow warm seep
Of liquid perfection—
One I'm content to drown in –
As its current drags me to sea,
Offers restful sleep beneath its
Tepid shores.
A wave crashes into me,
Finally release – finally the End,
The sleep that I long for.
My body sinks,
Heavy waters drag me under,
Ensconce me in warmth,
And as I feel my final breath flee
Sharp claws dig into my ankles,

Rip into my flesh.

And, in a start,
I am awake again.
Swearing at the cracked ceiling,
Cursing the demons and
Wondering if I'll ever

Win.

{{I'm starting to doubt it…}}


L. Sherman
10-11-201