My Husband, Bed

Luna

Soft blurry light on my bedroom wall

And my curtains billow with each silent wind.

Here the clock ticks in graceless haste

Yet my eyes hurry not to close

And my teeth clench in spiteful angst.

Dump a pile of thoughts on my head

And make me giddy with fruitless ideas;

Slap my eyelids stiffly open

While a million packets of painful light

Make their way into the pupils of eyes

Though which have gathered enough within

Hesitate not to take this all in.

Scrutiny, insane,

Mad and obsessed;

While this pile of noisy thoughts in my head

Swirls into oblivion and nothingness,

In time, I'll feel the sand in my eyes

And bid my thumping temples good night.



I wrote this at freakin' two o'clock in the morning.


I've been slightly an insomniac ever since I was young. I find it excruciatingly hard to sleep nearly every night and it usually takes me more than an hour to finally lose consciousness. I dream a lot, which means my sleep is comprised of mostly the REM stage; ergo, I wake up every morning feeling like a breathing pile of humus. I come to class feeling sleepy (hence, a shorter attention span and frequent daydreaming) and come out of class having learned practically nothing (which is why I love teachers who prepare Powerpoint presentations and/or handouts so much.)