Diary for The Sleepless
The night is a blanket; pillows are soft and round like the moon.
Stars glow, they’re orbs trapped inside shut eyes.
Windows, doors, rooms with air: the body is blind without them.
Beds are made from shadows,
the lights never go out, and the darkness is vivid.
I hear heart beats in the walls, old paint chips fall like worn out lungs;
I breathe in their uncomfortable rhythms.
Tossing, turning, shifting back and forth,
the thoughts keep knocking at my head.
Throbbing, pulsing, the pounding is palpitating,
it sounds like my ears are bleeding.
The nightmares wake me up screaming,
drops of sweat and hot tears leak through my pores.
I know it's looking at me; every sensation I feel is fire burning up my spine.
My hands reach out to touch it,
the feeling of its skin is hollow and I fall right through its long fingers.
Its nails wrap firmly around my neck and a mouth swallows me whole.
Its eyes are here in my room and in every room i've ever slept in.
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insomnia and nightmares