Another Sleepless Night
It’s another long and lonely sleepless night.
6 am and I see the sunlight.
Birds are chirping and all I can think about
is putting on a pot of coffee.
What’s the point of fighting
this mortal enemy of mine.
Sleep and I have never been friends.
Maybe this is a preview of how it will end.
Lack of sleep creates symptoms of madness
The writer behind the crickety wooden desk
typing feverishly away
slitting her wrist with synonyms.
Antagonizing over protagonists
and wondering where in all of this
does she fit in.
Madness comes in,
does seductive dances
like strippers on poles
legs wrapped around fantasies
turning me on
so that I can’t ever again turn it off
and I wonder if this is how it’s always going to be?
Always feeling the gnawing of
distractions from reality
suffering from manic marvel
writing
feeling the rush of life returning
from the well that I feared had been dried up.
Perhaps I should ride the wave and forget for a moment
that normal people have bed times
because really,
when it becomes time
I won’t be able to do anything more than to sleep.