I’ve been awake for what seems like a day past forever.
Watching my thoughts, spiraling in and out of control.
Deprived. Depressed. Depleted. Distressed. Dazed.
And very confused.
I sit and wonder for hours about wonders.
The line between real and not is slim.
I dream about being awake.
All the while, the clock sneaks by,
As if it is skipping hours when I’m not looking.
My body is exhausted I think,
But my mind is great at deception.
Slumber seems so far out of reach.
Cool Write
I love time and clock imagry - insomnia poems say so much.
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