Insomnia
I stand petrified on a cliff
with an unlit candle
in one hand a crochet hook
in the other.
a beige curtain is rippling
below, and I want to leap
through the cascade of polyester.
but nightmares exist
only in sleep, where God's
voice can be heard
in the contorted amen
which echoes in my hollowed chest.
and in my final moments when
I stand above the curtained ocean,
A pillow in one hand
and nothing in the other.
in the last few seconds of lucid thought,
I am too terrified for prayer.
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- Spiritual